


Speechless

by tricerasaurus



Series: Hotel AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Daichi needs his zen, Everyone is loud, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, I love everything, M/M, Other, all suga, and ennotana is the golden egg, biceps bokuto, happy suga, hotel au, i dont know how to do trigger warnings but be ready :p, i promise no one dies, its like an easter egg hunt, like angst, love me some suga, minor minor character death, nurse!iwaizumi, only my soul, other not so fun things, planetarium fun, probs gonna be some gay sex guys, sad suga, they all live together, trigger-alzheimers, trigger: panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 89,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricerasaurus/pseuds/tricerasaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daichi Sawamura had never in his life had trouble finding the right thing to say.</p><p>That is until an unexpected guest enters his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Potato

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys so first fic but I believe in it and it's gonna be really really beautiful I promise. Also all ships will get time because if they are in the thing it's because I love them. I'm not sure how long it's gonna be but I have future plans so a lot could happen. I BELIEVE LEGO. Also, chapter titles are just my favorite word in the chapter so they actually have nothing to do with the contents of the chapter :p.

Daichi Sawamura had never in his life had trouble finding the right thing to say.

It was a perk with few drawbacks and had given him the opportunity to start his own successful hotel business. Becoming a successful hotel owner and manager was a dream he’d had ever since he was old enough to speak and be forced into watching Gilmore Girls with his older sisters and now here he was, at the grand opening of the bigger and better Black Crow Hotel and Fine Dining. 

It had been a tough few years of putting all of his savings into buying an old, broken down bed and breakfast and turning it into a hotspot for foreign businessmen in fancy suits and rich vacationers. He lived and breathed the hotel and now here he was eight years later, fully booked and in a massive resort-esque haven. There was even an entire wing of the hotel dedicated to the staff who couldn’t (or were too lazy to) find lodging elsewhere. 

Unsurprisingly, a majority of the staff seemed loath to part with the free room service, pool use, sauna and apartment-style rooms, himself included. Recently he’d been considering joining the smart few who opted to care for themselves and live in one of the apartment complexes near the hotel. 

Despite the hard work of the contractors and architects to soundproof the walls, no amount of concrete between the rooms or acoustic-dampening angles could silence the several employees he had the pleasure of calling his neighbors. To his right were Oikawa and Iwaizumi, across the hall were Hinata and Kageyama, above him were Bokuto and Akaashi. All of whom seemed to have made it their one goal in life to never let Daichi sleep. They probably planned on just letting him slowly lose his sanity so they could ruin his life’s work in a matter of seconds. 

He only ever got any peace and quiet from his lefty neighbors, Kuroo and Kenma, the only seemingly stable couple around him. This morning was no exception as he woke to a string of obscenities coming from the tumultuous household of the the most dramatic couple among them.

“But Iwachaaaaan I-”

“NO. For the LAST FUCKING TIME OIKAWA. ALL I ASK is for you to CLEAN THE DISHES BEFORE YOU GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP AND YOU CAN’T EVEN DO THAT. LOOK AT THIS FUCKING MESS.”

“But Iwachan I was just so tiiired and the dish pile was so high, can’t you do it for me just this once? Pleeeaaase.”

There were a few moments of silence and then the sound of various pieces of china hitting the wall. There was a ruckus and a door opening, then Oikawa’s voice could be heard in the hallway.

“Iwachan why do you hate meee? Can’t we just go back to bed and pretend like there aren’t any dishes?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to sleep knowing all this shit is here Oikawa. How the fuck do you sleep knowing there’s this fucking mess in the sink?”

“Quite well actually, I could teach you how sometimes. Maybe after-” Oikawa squeaked suddenly as a plate hit the door opposite of Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s, “Iwachan that one really could’ve hurt me! I almost died!”

“Good, then I’d have less dishes to do.” Oikawa let out a dramatic gasp.

“Iwa-chan you don’t mean that.”

Another few seconds of silence before Iwaizumi stomped over to the door and slammed it in Oikawa’s face. Oikawa stood at the door and whined like a cat wanting to be let in for what seemed like hours until Kageyama had finally had enough.

“Oikawa I swear to FUCK if you don’t shut your WHORE mouth I’m gonna fu-”

Oikawa’s voice took on the serial killer quality it so often did as he directed his words to Kageyama, “Oh I’m sorry Tobio-chan, I wasn’t aware I was disturbing the king’s beauty sleep. Please forgive me, oh great one. Please allow me to bask in your glow for yet another day, your majesty.”

“Sh-shut up trash nugget.”

“Ooo that was a good one Tobio-chan! Got anything else for me?”

“Go lick a ball sack Oikawa.”

Oikawa sighed. “Well, I would but as you can see, Iwa-cha-”

Daichi had had enough of the mindless early morning bickering going on and he really didn’t want to hear anything else about Iwaizumi or ball sacks and definitely not both of those combined. He stormed to his door and swung it open, trying his best to put on his boss voice and look menacing despite his disheveled “it’s four in the morning and you fuckers don’t actually know what sleep is” look. It seemed to work because both Oikawa and Kageyama, who were taller than him, seemed to shrink back and looked down at their feet.

“Listen here tweedle dick and tweedle balls, while you may be perfectly content with losing a year of life every night you don’t sleep, some of us do like the idea of living to see our first ass wrinkle form, so if you could kindly return to your respective dens of fuckery I would be forever indebted to you.”

Kageyama quickly turned tail with a muttered “Sorry Sawamura-san” and quietly shut his door but Oikawa lingered, still facing towards Daichi. He looked from Daichi to his own door like he was trying to decide the better of two evils and to Daichi’s disappointment, Iwaizumi’s wrath seemed to be something Oikawa wasn’t ready to deal with. He plastered the sugar-sweet smile he used to woo disgruntled guests on his face and looked at Daichi.

“Hey Daichan since you’re up already,” Daichi glared at him, not ready to be reminded of the fact that he was in fact awake,”Can’t I just come and sit on your couch and watch the History Channel? I’ll be quiet I swear.~”

Daichi sighed as Oikawa put on his best puppy dog face, then after a moment stepped aside, allowing Oikawa inside and dashing away any lingering hopes of a couple more hours of shut eye. 

“Okay but you have to go over to Kuroo and Kenma’s with me at seven for breakfast and coffee and do this meeting with a wedding planner at eight because if I have to deal with this woman for another week I’m going to kill someone. Probably one of you, so it’s really in your best interest.”

Oikawa skipped past Daichi and onto the couch, stretching out and taking the entire thing, feet hanging off one end. 

“Okay, Daichan! But I really don’t see why you have so much trouble with them, they’re always perfect angels with me.”

“That would be because you have that whole tall and handsome thing going for you that seems to attract a majority of the female portion of our species.”

“Yeah, too bad I’m gayer than Richard Simmons singing a duet with Elton John in a bath house.”

Daichi chuckled and walked over to the TV. He turned it on and tossed the remote to Oikawa who caught it without looking. He turned it to the History Channel and let out an excited squeal when he realized Ancient Aliens was on.

“Hey, you want some tea since sleep is off the table?”

His offer was met with silence, which he partially expected considering something about space was on. For some unknown reason Oikawa had always had a strange fascination with space. He dragged them all to a planetarium show every single weekend and without fail every time Daichi would drift away to sleep, only to be slapped awake a few moments later by an irate Oikawa, angrily whispering about not respecting the magnificence of the solar entities or something along those lines, Daichi was only awake long enough to catch the gist of it before he was back off to dreamland.

He put enough water in the kettle for two and prepared a couple of mugs with Oikawa’s favorite tea, simple black with ridiculous amounts of sugar and lemon. He usually would try and force him to cut back on the sweetener but after a fight with Iwaizumi he usually didn’t need more people heckling him, it usually led to him causing various guests emotional distress and he needed him at the top of his game to deal with the wedding planner.

Daichi complained a lot about his employees but he actually loved how they were all like a small family, there to take care of each other, even if it could get a little stressful juggling all of their issues without anyone to help him. He let out a sigh and rubbed his hands across his face. It’s not like he wanted to be single but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a serious relationship. Building his dream had taken up a majority of his time and it was only now that his empire was built that he was noticing the emptiness when he woke up in the morning and had no one lying next to him. It probably also had something to do with everyone around him being in an actual committed relationship, even if it wasn’t a healthy one. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi in particular gave him the most anxiety, they were either all over each other or one couldn’t stand the other and Daichi was usually the one who had to pick up the pieces and put them back together. A real rollercoaster that one, but they seemed to enjoy it that way, they couldn’t actually spend more than a day apart without getting mopey and ruining the atmosphere of relaxed contentment he strived for in the hotel. 

The kettle started screaming at him and he took it off before it had the chance to bother anyone outside his room because he was considerate like that. He poured the two cups and moved over to the couch, handing a mug to Oikawa and lifting his feet so he could sit under them. He blew over the top of his tea and took a small sip to test the heat. He deemed it not yet safe for consumption and set it on the coffee table, watching as Oikawa took a large drink and immediately swallowed it, seemingly unaffected by the intense heat, too enchanted by what was on the screen. Ancient Aliens was over and it had now moved on to a documentary on black holes. 

“So what are we learning about today?” Daichi asked, trying to break Oikawa from his space trance.

“Spaghettification,” was his one word response. Daichi waited hoping for more of an explanation. After a few moments of silence, he knew he was going to have to pry.

“Uhh… Spaghettifi-what-now?” 

Oikawa sighed then began to explain as if he were speaking to a child,”It’s the noodle effect.” 

Daichi was unaware he was supposed to know what the “noodle effect” was but Oikawa was looking at him like he was missing some vital part of information required for being a human being. He sighed again and shook his head.

“Daichan we just learned about this at the planetarium last week, you should really start paying attention or I’m going to have to stop hanging out with you. It’s the stretching of matter near the entrance of a black hole, remember it happened in that one space movie we watched, the old one with the “Butts” helmet?”

Daichi nodded and pretended like he knew what Oikawa was saying. They continued to watch the space documentary. The guy talking had a really soothing voice and like a charm, space eventually lulled Daichi to sleep. He was awoken a couple hours later by an irritated Oikawa, telling him they were late for breakfast. Daichi groaned and snuggled in closer to the sofa, only to be prodded and kicked at until he reluctantly got up and went into his bedroom to put on his work suit.

When he walked back out he noticed Oikawa was also no longer wearing his sweats, meaning he had made it back into his own room.

“Did you and Iwaizumi make up?”

Oikawa’s face lit up and he grinned, “Nope but Iwa-chan brought by my suit before he went down to help Asahi out in the kitchen.”

Well that was nice at least, usually Iwaizumi would force Oikawa to wear one of Kuroo’s or Daichi’s, making him look like a little kid wearing their sibling’s hand-me-downs. Daichi motioned to the door and they walked out, going the door over to find it already open, Bokuto and Akaashi having already arrived. Oikawa walked in, joining the other two at the breakfast bar, Daichi followed him at a more groggy pace.

“Hey, where are the cats? I swear to all things holy in this world if they get out into the hotel there will be hell to pay.” 

There had been at least three cat incidents in the past year and after a startled Yachi had been “attacked” by Ed the Cat and spilled a whole tray of soft drinks on the owner of one of the larger companies that frequented the Black Crow, Daichi had a growing vendetta against the two little monsters. Luckily Daichi was able to diffuse the situation but Kuroo still owed him for it and he had threatened that next time it happened, the cats would be out on the street. After what Kuroo had gone through to convince Daichi to let Kenma have his cats he wasn’t willing to give them up, considering if the cats went so did Kenma. 

Kuroo exited the bedroom, pulling a shirt over his head, summoned by Daichi’s boss voice to explain the open door.

“It’s all good, Kenma’s with them in the bedroom, they sleep in there and don’t leave until he does so we should be all good. I told him what you said last time anyway so he’s been extra vigilant, he doesn’t want to lose his babies.”

Whenever Kuroo talked about Kenma his eyes lit up the same way Oikawa’s did when someone mentioned UFO sightings, which he had become a self-proclaimed expert on. 

“But what do you guys want for breakfast? We have pancakes, eggs, french toast uhhhh… cereal? I’m really good with cereal”

Bokuto raised his eyebrows, “Hey, hey you invite us over for a home-cooked meal and I wake up three hours early to grace you with my presence and you offer me cereal. Blasphemous. Truly.”

“Chill out twitnard you’ll get your gourmet meal just wanted to make sure everyone knew what their options were.”

“Wait… twitnard? What the fuck is a twitnard, Kuroo?”

“I don’t know, Kenma asked me to tone down my language so I’ve just been saying whatever comes to mind. But usually it just becomes fuck combined with some bullshit word.” He shrugged and started taking pans out of the cupboards, preparing to cook for 4 grown ass men who probably wouldn’t actually ever eat breakfast unless he forced them to. 

Kuroo was very passionate about breakfast, he majored in nutrition and health in college but stayed at the hotel as a manager for Kenma who didn’t want to move cities or change jobs. So instead he used his college graduate knowledge to ensure the safety and longevity of his co-workers lives. Which he did quite effectively and Daichi thanked him everyday for it.

Akaashi looked thoughtful for a second then looked at Kuroo with his usual deadpan expression, “Kuroo you know you just used ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ in the same sentence where you explained you’re trying to use less foul language.”

“Mother FUCKER. It’s just so difficult. I mean is ‘dildo’ considered foul? Because I could get used to saying dildo. What the bitch is wrong with me, I’m a goddamn adult I should be able to censor myself, you know?”

Right at that moment Kenma walked out, followed by Ed the Cat and Rupert the Cat (Kuroo got to name them since he was allergic and still allowed Kenma to get them.) and Daichi swiftly closed the door, receiving a stink-eye from Ed who’s one goal in life seemed to be to ruin Daichi’s. Kenma opened the fridge, grabbed a cup of milk and stood next to Kuroo, stealing a piece of bacon.

“Dildo is still foul, if you wouldn’t say it to your mother then it’s foul.” Kenma considered his statement for a moment, “Revision, if you wouldn’t say it to my mother it’s foul.”

Kuroo smiled and leaned down to plant a kiss on top of Kenma’s head.

“Mornin’, kitten!” Everyone around other than Kuroo and Kenma groaned and pretended to gag, “Shut the fuck up ass-whistles.”

Kenma sat down on the opposite side of the breakfast bar from Bokuto and pulled out his phone, “Language, Kuroo.”

Kuroo glared at them all from behind Kenma and mouthed various colorful phrases. 

For the rest of breakfast Bokuto tried to get Kuroo to go off on one of his rants that were basically just long strings of obscenities but to every one’s surprise he remained tame until Kenma as looking down at his phone and when he went to change, Kuroo had to let it all out at once. He didn’t even have anything to say at the time so it became a trance-like chant of Kuroo’s favorite choice words that the others took up until it became too loud and Kuroo had to quiet them all down before Kenma re-entered. When he finally did Bokuto and Akaashi had left to go wait tables and Oikawa was preparing himself to woo the most difficult wedding planner the Black Crow had ever seen.

“Okay but how is she difficult. Like dramatic? Or like, ‘I need to speak with the manager’ difficult?”

“No more like, ‘I haven’t slept with anyone in years and my lifelong ambition is to be a cougar and OH LOOk beautiful young men’ difficult.”

“So… She hit on you and you don’t know how to handle it.”

“She hit on me and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“Perfect, my favorite kind of difficult. Maybe I can even use this opportunity to make Iwa-chan jealous.” Oikawa got the faraway look in his eye when he imagined hitting on various other people all to make Iwaizumi realize how head-over-heels he actually is for Oikawa.

“Speaking of, you’re gonna be late if you don’t leave soon. She said she’ll be waiting in the restaurant, just tell Bokuto you’re there to meet her and it should be all good.”

“Thanks Daichan~. I’ll see you guys later Kuroo, Kenma.”

With that Oikawa departed and Daichi waited a few moments before bidding his hosts farewell and taking the stairs down to the main lobby. They were only on the third floor and his busy days kept him from being able to exercise as much as he used to and taking the stairs made him feel somewhat superior to his friends, even if they made it to the gym daily.

The day started much like any other, lots of meeting important guests and solving the many problems that came throughout the day with ease and confidence. He was in his element, he had a solution to every problem, an answer for every question and people walked through the hotel looking content and at peace, exactly how he wanted it.

He stopped by the restaurant to check on Oikawa and he was handling it like a champ. Iwaizumi happened to be serving and every time he left the kitchen, Oikawa was flirting with the wedding planner, close enough to give Iwaizumi a conniption but expertly avoiding any unwanted advances from the woman seated across from him. At one point Daichi had to take Iwaizumi to the back and give him a new task away from anything he could break after witnessing him preparing to serve a fancy crystal bowl in Oikawa’s direction.

After leaving the kitchen he sent Oikawa a look but he only responded with a wink and a thumbs up. Oikawa found Daichi after the meeting and apparently they got the entire event planned in less than an hour and he thanked the hotel gods for sending him an angel in the form of Tooru Oikawa.

After making his fifth lap around the various grounds and facilities, Daichi came back to the lobby and breathed a sigh of relief. Only to realize Kageyama and Hinata were at the welcome desk, once again bickering about some insignificant thing in front of the entire lobby, drowning out the soothing tones of the professional piano player he had hired and scaring many of the incoming guests right back out the door.

“No DUMBASS the stamp goes on the LEFT and the pen is on the RIGHT.”

“No, it was like this when I got here, you potato! I haven’t even touched it.”

“Yes, you DID. I watched you when you signed that guy in, and YOU MOVED THE PEN TO THE WRONG SIDE.”

“JESUS Kageyama it’s not even that big of a deal!”

“YES IT IS.”

Daichi felt whatever serenity he had left leave his body as he stormed over to the desk, standing as tall as he could and using the booming boss voice he’d mastered.

“Kageyama, Hinata,” They both turned instantly, looks of terror on their faces. Daichi kind of enjoyed the power he had over them, at least they still had the sense to obey mad Daichi, “Go to the back. And cool. Off.”

They scurried away quickly and Daichi took their place behind the desk. He closed his eyes, counted to ten and let out a breath. Then he opened his eyes, ready to serve the next guest in line. 

“Morning, how can I he-”

Daichi looked up at the man in front of him and for the first time in his life, he was speechless.


	2. Nincompoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi deals with the aftermath of seeing Suga for the first time. It's a real mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Second installment of my Daisuga fic which is slowly turning into an d everything fic because I just love them all so much guys. Also thanks to the actually best person in the world, lachesis, for editing it and telling me I'm funny. XD You are the realest <3\. Please enjoy!
> 
> Third installment coming soon! It's gonna be date night and all of the attending ships are gonna have their own beautiful little moments. Thanks for reading you guys!

Daichi stared, open-mouthed at the perfect angel who had decided to grace him with his presence. His ash-grey hair fell in soft locks around his face, with one perfect little cowlick that seemed to say, “Hello Daichi, I’m here to ruin the rest of your life.” He had warm chocolate (milk chocolate, not that dark stuff that Kenma forced everyone to eat) eyes that instantly calmed him, made him feel like he was a kid again without a worry in the world. And his smile -  _ Oh god, if Daichi had ovaries they would be exploding _ \- was made of everything pure in this world and it reached his eyes, the most genuine smile Daichi had ever seen. To top it all off, a small beauty mark below his left eye laughed at him sadistically knowing exactly the effect it had on Daichi. How could one person be so gorgeously flawless despite his imperfections? Daichi was gone and he hadn’t even spoken to the guy yet, he wasn’t actually sure if he could talk to him. Afraid only variations on the panicked scream playing on repeat in his head would leave his lips.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as his heart sped up and he felt heat rise to his face. It had been years since he had felt this flustered, he couldn’t remember how he was supposed to deal with the feeling, so instead he just stood there like a deer in headlights until the beautiful specimen before him decided to bring Daichi back down to earth.

“Uh hello, good morning!,” Oh god this couldn’t be fair. His voice was just as light and perfect as he was, it’s not like he could’ve sounded like Oikawa or the space narrator guy, no that would’ve made Daichi’s life easy and since when had his life ever been anything near easy. Daichi glared up at the ceiling, cursing his hotel gods for doing this to him as the strange entity before him continued, “I’m Koushi Sugawara, I have a reservation?” 

Daichi looked back at the man, a big mistake (this must be his body’s way of punishing him for years of ignoring its needs), but was forced to look down at the computer in front of him, afraid of what eye contact might do to him at this exact moment.

“Uh, um yes of course, one moment please.” He quickly opened up the work email on the computer and sent out an S.O.S. to his managers, hoping one of them would have better luck handling the situation he was currently faced with. Then he clicked over to the hotel booking system and typed in the name. Nothing came up.

He tried again and to his dismay, the same results popped up. No reservation under the name of Koushi Sugawara. Well shit on a stick. He looked up at the man, hoping he had heard the name wrong or misspelled something.

“Uh - god I’m really sorry about this-, sir, could you tell me your name again? Seems the system is pulling a blank and I just want to be sure I got everything right.”

The angel beamed at him and gave an understanding nod. Daichi felt all of the stress he had pent up inside leave his body. This had to be some kind of supernatural witch magic because holy hell, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t control the various processes of his body. He was going haywire. He needed to reboot, but after a panicked glance at his email, he realized no one had answered his call for help. He knew they weren’t all busy, there was no way. Most of them never started work in the first place, knowing what they didn’t get to Daichi would eventually take care of. Kuroo would be busy bothering Kenma, who would be busy ignoring Kuroo, instead focusing on his work as the security and housekeeping supervisor, a job that required a lot of staring at screens and avoiding human contact, Kenma’s specialty. His other general manager, Oikawa, was done with his various meetings for the day, but  instead of doing rounds and paying attention to his email like he was supposed to, there was a large chance he would be in the back, destroying what little was left of Iwaizumi’s nerves.

He was going to have to have a conversation with his managers about workplace relationships, they seemed to be starting to effect what little work ethic his employees had. He reopened his email and started typing, being sure to highlight the little urgent marker at the top.

>>To: Oikawa, Tooru, Kuroo, Tetsurou.

From: Sawamura, Daichi.

Look here, you dildos. Stop bothering your respective significant others and make your way to the front desk, ASAP. I’m having a crisis. Kuroo, if you don’t make it in 5 minutes I’ll take away your cat privileges. Oikawa, I’ll tell Iwaizumi why you really ditched date night last week.

Daichi

>>>>>>

Satisfied, he sent the message and turned back to the man, who was waiting patiently for Daichi to finish before giving him his name again. “It’s Koushi. Sugawara. But everyone just calls me Suga.”

“Suga, yup. Got it. Su-ga,” Daichi inwardly cringed at himself for not being able to come up with something better (Couldn’t have said, wow great name or, Nice to meet you, I’m Daichi Sawamura, owner of this fine establishment, I swear I’m not actually this inept). He nodded and retyped the name, slowly due to his shaking fingers, praying for new results to pop up. While the computer was processing his request he spotted the jet-black gelled up hair of Kuroo making it’s way over and Daichi released a small breath of relief, hoping the nightmare would soon be over. Kuroo spotted Daichi and seemed to realize how much of a mess he was, because he gave him a concerned look and quickly walked over. 

“Sawamura-san, what seems to be the issue?”

Daichi looked over at Sugawara, who seemed to be content to sit there and wait for Daichi to get his shit together all evening, and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry Sugawara-san, I may be in charge but computers hate me so I’m hoping my manager will be able to fix the problem, if you’ll just wait a moment longer.”

Sugawara nodded, “Please, call me Suga, Sugawara is my business name and this is not a business trip.” He gave Daichi a small smile as if to ensure him everything was going to be all right. His mind tried to calm his body but his heart was having none of it, threatening to kill Daichi unless he removed himself from this man’s presence post haste.

“A-alright, S-Suga. Just a moment.” Daichi wanted to kill himself, right then and there. Never IN HIS LIFE had he stuttered. He was the captain of the speech team, he gave his school’s graduation speech. He’d met countless celebrities and important political figures and he remained eloquent through it all so why now? Kuroo seemed equally surprised as he looked back and forth between Suga and Daichi, a devious look in his eye. He gave Daichi his trademark stupid Kuroo grin and turned to Suga, suddenly all sugar, spice and everything nice.

“I’m so sorry sir, it looks like in the mess of the grand opening our computer system lost your reservation.” Daichi looked over at the computer and saw Kuroo’s fingers swiftly move over the keyboard, canceling what looked to him to be a perfectly in-tact reservation under the name of Koushi Sugawara. He gave Kuroo his best death glare but Kuroo continued on, as if nothing fishy had just happened, “However, if you are willing, we do have an open room in the employee wing.”

Suga seemed to consider it for a moment, “I’m really fine with wherever as long as I can stay for a couple of months and I won’t be bothering anyone.”

“Oh no sir, not a bother at all. We’ll be offering you free room service and the full perks package for our mistake.”

“Thank you so much! That sounds absolutely fantastic.” Suga’s smile made his face glow and every word that left his mouth sounded sincere and perfect. Daichi couldn’t stop staring at the delicate curve of his lips or the small dimples that formed on either side of his face with every grin. There was an amused, slightly mischievous glint in his eyes that Daichi was sure could become his favorite thing to see in the morning. He was daydreaming about what he would do to that face if given the opportunity when the perfect eyes looked in his direction and Daichi was forced out of his moment of bliss.

“Thank you for all your help, I could’ve sworn it was booked last time I checked, but you know these things happen. It seems like we’re going to be seeing each other around a lot, so what should I call you?” 

Daichi was still hooked on the whole “going to be seeing each other around a lot” part when Kuroo muttered something that sounded like “for God’s sake” under his breath and answered Suga for him.

“Sorry about him, he’s a bit of a-,” Kuroo paused as if thinking of the right thing to say, “A bit of a nardtard, but his given name is Sawamura Daichi and you can just call him Daichi, everyone does. He’s the owner of this fine establishment and despite his current state, I promise he is usually quite articulate and even has something intelligent to say every once and awhile. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, I go by Kuroo and you’ll be staying across the hall from me so feel free to stop by anytime.”

With that Kuroo handed him a keycard with all the perks of the hotel included and passed him off to Yamaguchi, their bag-boy. Then he called Kageyama and Hinata back out, both of them a little ruffled-looking. Kageyama’s dark usually straight hair was sticking up at all angles while Hinata’s clothes were ruffled, his own bright orange hair as disorderly as it usually was. Daichi narrowed his eyes at them, Kageyama blushed and looked away but Hinata just smiled at him and turned to the next person in line, who seemed far more irritated by the long wait than Suga was. 

For the first time in his life, he found himself envious of the little touches and stolen moments of intimacy his various coupled employees shared together. For some reason, he wanted that with someone, specifically with Suga. Daichi stole one last glance at the radiant beauty before Kuroo bid him a quick farewell, dragging Daichi away from the counter, through the restaurant and into the kitchen. 

Daichi followed with no complaint, still shell-shocked about what he had experienced, not fully convinced it wasn’t some kind of vision from above. Kuroo sat him down in an extra chair out of everyone’s way and snapped at him until his eyes finally focused on reality.

“Daichi, what the fizzwatts was that? Did you just have a love-at-first sight experience? What have I witnessed?”

“Kuroo I-,” Still slightly dazed, Daichi tried to make sense of the situation. The only explanation that made sense to him was black magic, “I think I was just ju-jued.”

“Ju-jued? Daichi what the fuc- SHIT. What the FRIZZLEFRATS are you talking about?”

“That guy Kuroo! He ju-jued me! Or he’s like, a SIREN. I always knew watching those sci-fi films with Oikawa were preparing me for something. This is it Kuroo, better prepare yourself, they’ll be sending a Kenma-shaped one after you next.”

“You mean Suga? The beautiful, charismatic piece of ass that you sat there and straight up gawked at for 15 minutes?”

“Kuroo you said ass.”

“BITCH-TITS I hate myself, but the point is, Daichi, you are currently a mess because you looked at this man. And that means that as your friend, it has become my life’s one purpose to get you that very VERY fine slab of man.”

Daichi glared at Kuroo. “I have no need for your assistance in my love life. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, thank you very much.”

Kuroo laughed and leaned down so he was eye-to-eye with Daichi, “Really because you couldn’t even tell the guy your name. I’m relatively certain that you’re gonna need me to hold your hand through this whole process.”

Daichi glared for a few moments before the realization hit him.

“Wait… wait Kuroo, did you give him a room in the  _ employee _ wing? The wing specifically for  _ employees _ . I want to stress the word EM-PLOY-EE which you seem to have missed.”

“Well you were busy sitting there being a general creep so I just helped you out. Gave you a second shot, I did. You should really be thanking me, if I weren’t for me you would probably still be standing there with your mouth wide open and Oikawa would definitely be filling it with various office supplies. I would not stop him.”

“Nice to know you’re there for me, Kuroo.”

“Yeah that’s why you’re lucky I’ve decided to take this sweet, blossoming little romance under my fully capable wing.”

“Kuroo if you get even remotely involved I will kill you in my sleep.”

“Don’t you mean ‘in your sleep’?”

“Doesn’t matter, either way someone will be sleeping and you will be dying.” 

“Aw come on Daichi, it could be fun! We could invite him to the planetarium and we could all laugh at you drooling over him! Or even better, drooling all over yourself, once you inevitably fall asleep.”

‘It would NOT be fun, I would make sure it wasn’t fun for any of you nincompoops.”

“Oooh, nincompoops is a good one, I’m gonna keep that one for a special occasion.” 

“Kuroo I’m serious, leave it be, I’m sure he’s not even into guys anyway and even if he his there is no way he is single. I mean, did you see him? Because damn. He’s gorgeous.”

“I know, and that’s why I’m going to get him for you, because you need a gorgeous person in your life, so you can stop 11th wheeling or whatever. Honestly, you really dampen the mood on date night.”

“I can’t even speak a single coherent sentence to the guy, how do you expect me to woo him?”

Kuroo leaned back against the stainless steel counter behind him, “I don’t, I expect you to fail. But as your friend, I feel the need to tell you that if you don’t find someone soon you’re gonna start getting old and then you’ll never find someone to love.”

“Oh, well that’s a happy thought, thank you so much.”

“I’m serious Daichi, I was starting to get worried about you, I was pretty sure your balls had shriveled up and fell off, I think this is a great opportunity.”

At this point Daichi was done with the conversation so instead of responding he opted to rub his eyes with the palms of his hands until spots formed and focus on those, ignoring the problem at hand like the mature adult he was. Kuroo let out an exasperated sigh and looked around, trying to find something.

Finally, his eyes hit their mark, ”Asahi come over here for a second, would you?”

Daichi looked over to see his cook Asahi Azumane, a massive man with his hair up in a tight bun, wipe his hands on his apron and walk over to them. After seeing Daichi seated, a look of concern and panic crossed his face, he rushed over, confusion in his eyes.

“Are you okay Daichi? Did something happen? Was it my food? I have Pepto Bismol, do you need it?” The large man leaned over Daichi, hand rubbing his back in a comforting motion. 

Kuroo patted Asahi’s back, “No, no my large friend. I just thought you would inform Daichi of how sad his love life is.”

Asahi immediately stood and looked embarrassed, avoiding eye contact with Daichi, “Well, I mean. We were just talking about it and… Well… We’re just worried that you might be feeling lonely, you know?”

Daichi glared up at Asahi, “So what you guys have nothing better to do than talk about my love life?”

Asahi flinched back from his words. He knew his friends meant well and really, they weren’t wrong. He had started to feel an emptiness when he walked into his dark room and had no one to greet. He went to bed at night and felt like something was missing next to him. He woke up and sometimes didn’t even want to leave his bed, knowing there was no one special to say good morning to. Things like that had never bothered him when he’d been working so hard to achieve his dream but now that he was there, he couldn’t help but feel a hollowness inside him.  At one point he had even considered getting a cat, creatures he had historically had an aversion to after he was attacked as a small child by one, but even more so after meeting his arch nemesis Ed the Cat. His friends had good reason to worry. He let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine, I’ll try to talk to him. But no inviting him to the planetarium. Let me handle this at my own pace, okay?” 

Asahi nodded his head in agreement, Kuroo muttered his approval significantly less enthusiastically. 

Asahi clapped his hands together, “Oh this is so exciting, has anyone told Oikawa yet?”

“Oh yes! We have a bet going on this and I totally won, I can’t wait to see his face when-”

“NO. No one tells Oikawa, is that understood?” Daichi used his boss voice again, extremely effective on Asahi but Kuroo still looked like he was planning something.

Right at that moment with Asahi looking dejected and Kuroo rather devious, Noya and Tanaka entered, still in their tennis uniforms. Noya’s hair was perfectly gelled with a little lock of dyed bangs hanging on his forehead. Despite the insane wind in the area, he always seemed to win the World War III that was weather vs. hair, relying on the spiked-up hairdo to give him a needed extra few inches. His companion had lost that same war and opted for the buzz cut look, ensuring minimal primping and earning him an extra few moments of sleep every morning most other people spent preparing for their day. Morning lessons were over and they only had a couple hours until afternoon lessons began, precious time they used to pester Asahi into baking them various sweets. They were in the middle of telling an eventful story about a stray ball that had hit Tsukishima right smack dab in the face when Noya saw Asahi’s lost ASPCA puppy face. 

“Awww, babe what’s wrong? Did that critic fucker come back? Because I told you he obviously didn’t have a culinary bone in his body if he thought your bisque was anything less than divine.” Noya stood in front of his boyfriend and stared up at his hung head. Despite the negative comments regarding the height difference between the two, Noya’s height had always allowed him to look into Asahi’s eyes whenever the big guy hung his head, a common occurrence in the Black Crow, where every diner had some kind of complaint. Noya always knew what to say to get him back on his game though and never failed to be there to back him up.

Asahi tried to look away so Noya reached up on his tip toes and placed a hand on either side of his face, forcing Asahi to stare at him, “Babe, what’s up?”

Asahi averted his gaze and muttered, “Daichi is mad at me.”

Noya slowly turned to face Daichi, standing as tall as he could and using the intimidating face he’d picked up from years working around Tanaka, “Daichi, would you please explain to me  _ why _ you broke my boyfriend.”

“He was prying.”

 

Noya turned back to Asahi, “Were you prying, sweetheart?”

“I don’t think so, I was just telling him what we were all discussing last week. You know, about his loneliness and all.”

Noya turned back to Daichi, who looked betrayed. “You too Noya? Can anyone leave me and my sad existence in peace?”

“Daichi, you can’t just take out your anger on Asahi, he’s fragile.”

“It’s not my fault he can’t mind his own business.”

“It’s not his fault your life is lonely and depressing!”

Kuroo decided to interject at this point, “The tiny man has a point, which is why you shouldn’t fuck up this opportunity, Daichi. It’s really a once in a lifetime chance.”

Daichi pointed accusingly at his rooster-headed friend, “You should say fuck less Kuroo.” 

Kuroo responded with one of his sentences comprised entirely of the work “fuck” out of frustration with his inability to overcome his unfiltered mouth.

Daichi considered what he said, fuck and all. Kuroo, again, had a point. Daichi wasn’t getting any younger and he really shouldn’t be taking out his anger on his employees, he kind of needed them. Especially the ones who made his food.

“Sorry Asahi, you know I’m not mad at you, I’m just angry with myself.” 

The big guy looked up like Daichi and grinned, “I believe in you Daichi! I’m going to go finish the cakes before we get too far behind, good luck!”

Noya smiled and watched Asahi walk away, “Mmmm, dat ass though,” he said it loud enough for Asahi to hear, and at least he had the decency to duck his head and act ashamed.

“I swear to all things holy, Noya one of these days I will cite you for workplace harassment. The poor man deals with it enough at home, let him work in peace.”

Noya waved his hand, as if brushing his statement away. “Nah, he loves it. Gives him the extra boost of confidence he needs to get through the day. BUT speaking of ass, what is this I hear about a new gentleman caller.”

Before Daichi could open his mouth, Kuroo was already speaking, “Oh man, you should’ve seen it. Our Daichi was a real wreck there for a couple minutes. He couldn’t even tell the guy his  _ name _ . It was the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months. And the guy totally checked out Daichi when he tore his gaze away to glare at me. True love, I’m telling you.”

“Woah woah, why was I not informed of this whole ‘checking out’ situation.”

“Because you were in the middle of what I assumed to be a stroke, so I figured you had bigger problems at the moment than who or what was checking you out.”

“You would, in fact, be wrong.”

Noya decided to interject at that moment, “Wait, wait. Who is this guy? When do I get to see him?”

“Well probably sometime later tonight because  _ someone _ ,” He threw another pointed glare in Kuroo’s direction, “decided to book him a room in the  _ employee _ wing.”

“Ooooo this is gonna be great fun! Which room is he?”

Why was Daichi the only one who saw this as a problem? Why were these fuckers so intent on ruining the zen environment he had built for himself? Kuroo and Noya continued their conversation, completely oblivious to the minor meltdown taking place right next to them.

“The one two doors to your right.”

“Bet he can still hear Iwa and Oikawa in the morning though.”

“How much?”

Noya considered the question a moment then answered, “I bet 10 fake dollars.”

“You’re on, kiddo.”

Daichi was almost at the end of his rope when Tsukkishima walked in, tailed by his inseparable partner in crime, Yamaguchi. The tall, bespectacled, blonde boy always seemed to have his shorter, freckled shadow with him no matter where he was. Tsukkishima glanced at Daichi and let out a small chuckle before grabbing a cup of coffee and redirecting his attention to Yamaguchi, who seemed to be recounting a story about Yachi and another accident she was involved in. Like always, Tsukkishima seemed to be only half-listening while moving on to another topic in his head.

“Whatchu laughing at four-eyes?” Tanaka had finally ambled his way over to Daichi and the rest and seemed ready to pick a fight with anyone who looked at him wrong. Usually that person was the taller blond, who loved pushing people’s buttons.

Tsukkishima quickly looked over, as if he had been waiting for the proper moment to interrupt, “Oh nothing, it’s just that guy we helped move up to the third floor really had the hots for you Sawamura-san, couldn’t stop talking about how cute you were all flustered like that.”

Daichi placed his head back in his hands. He felt the calm leaving his body and decided it was time to stop this conversation before it went places he was was not ready or willing to deal with.

“If one more person says something related to our newest floormate, do not be surprised when one of you is missing tomorrow morning. I’m not gonna tell you who because I’m not yet sure myself, but I think that just adds to the terror you should all currently be feeling.”

He was met by silence until Tanaka’s confusion got the best of him, “Wait, what new floormate, Daichi do you have some new boy toy I’m not aware of?”

Kuroo grinned and of course had to open his mouth, “Actually, Daichi is currently infatua-”

Daichi would not stand for this disrespect.

“THAT’S IT, I’VE DECIDED IT’S ASAHI.”

Asahi jumped and looked over, horror clearly painted across his face. 

“Do you really want to have the BLOOD of this sweet, innocent, very large man on your cold, soulless hands?,” He waited a moment before disbanding the group, trying to stop the gossip in its tracks, “Get back to work before I finally fire all of you.”

Everyone scurried away, Kuroo included this time, Tsukki slower than the others as if he was considering staying just to see if Daichi would follow through on both his declarations. After they had all finally left, Daichi bid the kitchen staff farewell and he continued on his rounds. This time keeping an eye open for the perfectly angelic spectre he had come to know as Suga.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Daichi fell onto his couch face-first as soon as he got home, barely even bothering to take off his shoes. It had been a long day of caring for his guests, avoiding his employees and definitely  _ not  _ thinking about Suga and the way the rolled-up sleeves of his pale green shirt revealed his toned forearms or how he smelled faintly of mint and fabric softener. And he definitely did not abuse his powers as the boss to get Kageyama and Hinata to keep tabs on Angel-face McGee. So far he had learned barely anything except for that his smile was actually the sun and that he was decent at volleyball, a sport spoiled rich kids and businessmen seemed to have an disclination towards. It was unfortunate, as that aversion had led to the gym he had built in by the tennis courts to fall into disuse until Tanaka insisted they start up a work league. He had hurt his ankle playing a couple of weeks ago after a receive gone wrong. It still bothered him after a hard day of work, like today had turned out to be.

He groaned and lifted himself off the couch, knowing if he woke up there the next morning it would make his whole day a living hell. He trudged to the bedroom, peeling off his work clothes along the way and pulling on an old white t-shirt and some dark blue flannel pajama pants. His ankle was really starting to bother him so he made his way out to the kitchen to get ice. Opening his freezer he remembered he had used the last of it the night before at dinner. He shut the door and groaned, mentally preparing himself for the trek outside to the ice machine, which hated him almost as much as Ed the Cat did.

Grabbing the bucket back out of the freezer, he made his way outside to the machine, then glared at it for a few moments.

“Listen here buddy, I’ve had a really long day and all I want is some ice, which you can give to me.”

The machine made a crunching noise, Daichi took as consent but when he pushed the button for ice, nothing came out. Sadly, he was not surprised. He banged his head against the machine and let out what he hoped was a threatening breath.

“My friend, buddy, pal, amigo, all I’m asking is this one favor, I promise I’ll never ever kick you ever again. I may even bring back your little ice cream machine girlfriend. What do you say?”

He heard a soft giggle behind him and turned as if he had been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, banging his ankle in the process and letting out a few of Kuroo’s favorite dirty words.

“Oh goodness, are you okay?” The giggly voice asked. Daichi slowly opened his eyes to find his worst nightmare, the angel who turned him into an inarticulate piece of trash. He was standing right in front of Daichi, still wearing the same light grey suit and light green shirt ensemble he had on earlier that day, hands not quite touching Daichi but prepared to catch him in case Daichi’s feet decided to betray him the same way his brain had. Daichi straightened, gingerly placing his foot back on the floor and hugging his bucket to his chest.

“Uh, good evening. How’s your, your uh, stay been with us so far?”

Suga giggled again, “Well, significantly better since discovering you have sentient ice machines.”

“Oh that, well he just- I mean IT,  _ it _ just hates me for separating it from the ice cream machine we used to have up here for an after work treat until I realized my workers are, in fact, all seven-year old boys who emptied and broke the poor thing in less than an hour. The next logical step was to get rid of it but the ice machine seemed to disagree. Never forgiven me for that one.”

“Well I’ve yet to hurt him in anyway, why don’t you let me try?” Suga asked, holding a hand out for Daichi’s bucket.

Daichi handed it to him gladly, hoping his perfect companion could also save the soul of his poor broken-hearted ice machine. Suga placed the bucket under the dispenser and pressed the button. After a few seconds of no ice, he grimaced (an expression he still somehow managed to look beautiful with) and gave the machine a few kicks. It protested, sputtered and crunched but finally gave in. Suga gave a cry of victory and held out a full bucket for Daichi before placing his own underneath to be filled.

“Now you’ve done it, he’ll never trust me again,” Daichi gave a dramatic sigh before looking at the machine, “I promised no more kicking, he must feel so betrayed.”

Suga smiled up at Daichi before removing his bucket from the machine, “I made no such promise, therefore the kicking was a completely valid response when he refused to give me ice.”

“Yes, but he is just a mere ice machine, I don’t think he cares who the kick came from, just the fact that it happened is probably enough to set him off.”

Suga sighed, “I guess you’ll just have to return his long-lost ice cream machine love to make up for it then.”

Daichi heard a door open and Oikawa exited his room.

“Did I just hear ‘ice-cream’? Because if you’re bringing that machine back I’m going to have to make some serious requests. For example, it needs more ice cream. And by more ice cream I mean you should probably just get a whole new industrial-sized machine.” 

Oikawa’s eyes got wide when he realized who was out in the hallway, the rumor of Daichi’s new crush having made its way around the hotel at this point. His eyes glinted mischievously, and he walked out into the hallway to introduce himself.

“Hello~ Suga-chan, I’m Oikawa, Daichan’s next door neighbor!” He held out a hand and Suga took it, shining his dimpled smile at Oikawa.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m not really sure who my neighbors are but when I find out I’ll be sure to tell you.”

“Yes you should really meet everyone, especially if you’re going to be staying here for, what was it, two-three months?”

“I’m not really quite sure but yeah it seems like I’m gonna be here for awhile.”

Oikawa clapped his hands and let out a small excited squeal, “Oh, I just got the greatest idea!” Daichi glared at Oikawa, perfectly aware this idea had been festering in his mind all day long, “We’re all gonna be going to the planetarium tomorrow then maybe go ice-skating afterwards. It’s a whole floor thing and you should definitely 100% join us. It’ll be great, really.”

Suga sent a glance Daichi’s direction before looking back to Oikawa, “Well I would love to, but really I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh no, not at all, we have an odd number anyway and Daichi usually ends up the odd man out with all the couples around here, so you would really be doing him a favor, right Daichi?”

They both looked at him, Oikawa with his best shit-eating grin and Suga like he was almost afraid of Daichi’s answer. 

Daichi smiled at Suga, “I would love for you to go, it’s a good time and you’ll be sure to meet everyone, you might even see a little more than you hoped for, if it goes anything like last week.”

Suga shot Daichi a curious look, and Daichi hurried to explain,

“We went to the planetarium like usual and someone-” he cut himself off to stare pointedly at Oikawa, “Decided that it would be totally appropriate to get a little frisky with their boyfriend.” 

Oikawa did not look the slightest bit embarrassed.

“In my defense, it was not just Iwa and I. Noya and Asahi were the ones that got caught!”

Daichi rolled his eyes.

“Which led to Kenma and Kuroo getting caught, which led to you and Iwazumi getting caught, which led to all of us almost getting banned from the planetarium.”

The was a pause.

“That would have been terrible,” Oikawa said sadly. 

“Well, personally I think I’ll be rooting for a replay of last week,” Suga winked at Daichi with a playful smile on his lips and Daichi stood there, his mind once again failing to supply him with some witty retort or flirtatious reply.

Oikawa looked at Suga with a shocked expression as Suga bid them both farewell, promising to join them tomorrow and giving Daichi a small wave before closing his door behind him. The two remaining looked at each other in varying levels of disbelief. Daichi was the first to break the silence.

“Did he just-”

Oikawa grabbed Daichi by the shoulders and shook him a couple of time, “Daichi you are never letting this one go. I swear to bejesus if you fuck this one up, I will personally unleash an army of Eds into the hotel and laugh as I watch you slowly sink into the depths of madness.”

With that he turned and practically skipped back to his room, turning one last time before closing the door, “Sweet dreams Daichan~.”

Daichi stood in the hallway for a few more moments trying to finish processing what just happened before heading slowly back into his room and shutting the door behind him. It was several hours later, after staring blankly up at the ceiling above his bed trying to come up with a logical explanation for what has just occurred, when he came to the only possible conclusion.

  
“I’m fucked.”


	3. Edward the Cockblock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Planetarium pre-game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the late update, I was procrastinating and moving back home. But here it is! It was gonna be a lot longer so I figured I would break it into two parts. Thanks to the best person in the world, Lachesis, for betaing for me. :)) Hope you enjoy!!

“- and so the bride is on the dance floor just absolutely WASTED and she’s dancing all sexy and what not. THEN the groom walks up behind her and tries to start dancing with her-”

Bokuto was perched on top of his usual seat at the breakfast bar, still in his catering uniform, recounting the tales of his latest wedding when Daichi entered Kuroo and Kenma’s apartment.

“-she turns around, yells, ‘Don’t touch me I have a husband!’ and straight up  _ decks _ him right in the schnoz.”

Kuroo was in the kitchen preparing snacks for the planetarium pre-game, he looked at Bokuto, wide-eyed, “NO.”

“YES, and he’s just standing there, hand on his now-broken nose, staring at her all awe-stricken and he yells back ‘I KNOW’. It was the biggest fucking disaster.”

“Holy SHIT, Bokuto that’s fiddlesticking amazing.”

Bokuto chuckled, “Even Akaashi wasn’t able to keep a straight face, I heard a small giggle escape him and I’m never gonna let him forget it.”

Daichi grabbed some chips from one of the bowls Kuroo was working of, “Speaking of,” he looked around, noticing and empty spot by Bokuto and no pudding-colored head, “Where are our deadpan friends?”

Kuroo and Bokuto answered at the same time.

“Sleeping.”

Bokuto took a swig from his beer and straightened his highlighted hair spikes, “Akaashi’s stealing a few more minutes of rest before we have to head down for the next reception. I’m really starting to hate wedding season.”

“And Kenma had to work last night and this morning so he’s been conked out with the cats ever since he got home.”

Kuroo took the bowls of various snack items to the table, where Oikawa was engaging in a one-sided conversation with Iwaizumi. The latter was tapping away at his computer, completely oblivious to the musings of his partner. Daichi took the seat across from him.

“Yo Iwa, whatcha doing? You finished the expense reports days ago.”

Iwaizumi looked up at Daichi then his eyes quickly darted down, looking like he was caught snacking before supper, “I-uhm i-it’s nothing just a uh, report for financial things and like, like a busi-”

“Iwachan is taking online classes! He’s gonna be a nurse!” 

Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa, betrayal in his eyes, “Shut the fuck up you whore.”

“Aw, but Iwachan I’m  _ your _ whore! And I think it’s cute, in the most manly way possible, of course. I’m very proud of you.” Oikawa ran his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair like he was his prize puppy.

Iwaizumi looked back up at Daichi guiltily, as if he was doing him some great dishonor. Daichi stared at him, shocked. He had always known Iwaizumi wanted to get out of the revenue managing business but he never expected him to keep it a secret.

“Iwaizumi, I-that’s, that’s really great!” Iwa’s expression changed to one of surprise, “I just wish you would’ve told me, I could’ve lessened your workload to give you more time for this, it’s much more important.”

“Daichi that’s why I didn’t tell you.’

Daichi narrowed his eyes, “I’m not sure I follow you.”

Iwa sighed, “I knew that as soon as you found out you would try and take on more work yourself and you really don’t need that. Honestly, work is like a drug for you.”

“Drugs can be good!”

Oikawa decided to add his own opinion, to further prove Iwaizumi’s point, “No, no Daichan. Like, a really bad drug. Like meth or  _ crystal _ meth.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?”

“I mean, fundamentally, sure, but the overall point still stands, you work too much.”

“No I work  _ exactly _ the right amount!”

Iwaizumi shut his computer and rubbed his temples, “Then if you took on any of my work, you  _ would _ be working too much, isn’t that right?”

“I mean I guess,  _ but _ my point is also still valid. The classes are more important than your work here, and you have  _ a lot _ of work here.”

It was true, not only was he the revenue manager, handling all of the finances and marketing, he was also a true Renaissance Man when it came to the hotel business. Wherever he was needed, Iwa would be there, whether it was waiting tables or helping out housekeeping. When he wasn’t working in the hotel, he was sleeping in it. The only time he went out was when Oikawa forced him to. Daichi was convinced the main reason they went out every Saturday night was to get Iwa fresh air. Iwaizumi already went above and beyond to keep Daichi’s dream alive and Daichi was prepared to do the same for his irritable friend.

Oikawa looked at Daichi, “That’s what I’m here for, I already work a lot with finances and we have two general managers so if Kurochan is willing to pick up some of my work then I could take over a lot of Iwachan’s responsibilities”

Kuroo broke away from his conversation with Bokuto to chime in, “Personally, I would love to see precious little Iwa in a nurse’s uniform so I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

“I’ll even pick up extra shifts at the restaurant so you don’t have to come by and help out so often.” Bokuto sent Iwa his best smile and a thumbs up for good measure.

Iwaizumi’s eyes were on his closed computer, a little color on his cheeks, “Thanks a lot you guys, you fucktards are the best.”

Everyone gave a collective ‘awwww’ and pretended to have tears in their eyes, sniffling and embracing whoever was closest. This made Iwaizumi go even redder.

“I take it back, I hate all of you, I don’t need any one of your guy’s help, you’re a bunch of imbecilic useless tiddly-fucks.”

Kuroo laughed through his grin, “I’m not sure if you want Bokuto taking up many more shifts anyway, he might fuck up and go all emo again.”

“Hey I do not go  _ emo _ and I rarely make a mistake. I am a true savant when it comes to waiting tables.”

“Yeah sure, whatever gets you through the night, you dildo.”

Right then the pudding-head entered the room, “Kuroo, I thought we established ‘dildo’ counts as profanity?”

Kuroo spun around to face Kenma, “Right, but you see I- _ hngg _ .” Kuroo stopped mid-sentence and Daichi turned to see what had shut Kuroo up, a man who never closed his mouth unless it was absolutely necessary.

What he found was a drowsy Kenma, usual stick-straight hair mussed up on top of his head, wearing a pair of athletic shorts and to Daichi’s amusement, one of Kuroo’s large workout sweatshirts. The sleeves covered his arms as he stretched, rubbing an eye with one of the sleeves. The sweatshirt went down to mid-thigh and almost hung off one shoulder. This was Kuroo’s ultimate weakness. 

Kenma had been wearing one the first time Kuroo realized he loved the guy. It was in Kuroo and Daichi’s third year, Kenma’s second. They were all on the same club volleyball team and on the first day of a long training camp a few of the guys snuck out to grab ice cream from the local convenience store. On the way back, Kenma dripped all over his shirt and Kuroo lent him the sweater he was wearing over his shirt. He took one look at the boy and spent the rest of the year attempting to woo him. He carried on through months of rejection, slowly wearing him down until Kenma agreed to go on a date. After that Kuroo graduated and they floated away until Kenma went to Kuroo’s university and to everyone’s surprise, admitted his love for Kuroo in front of an entire classroom full of people. They’d been together ever since.

“Kit-K-Kenma, would you please, for the sake of our friends’ virgin eyes, replace that particular article of clothing for something a little less provocative.”

Kenma looked up from his psp and scrunched his nose at Kuroo and muttered a quick, “Gross Kuroo,” before heading back to the bedroom to change.

Kuroo placed his head on the counter and took a few deep breaths, “I swear to God he tries to torture me. He must get off on it or something. Sadistic little piece of perfection.”

While Kuroo was having a minor mental breakdown, Asahi and Noya busted the door open, “We brought the alcohols!” Noya held up the bags in his hands, like they were a young lion prince being presented to the peasants beneath him.

Kuroo turned to see who it was, “Oh, thank all things holy.”

He grabbed the alcohol from Noya and placed the bags on the breakfast bar, pulling out the first bottle he could find and taking a big swig.

“Oh fuck, what’s his problem?”

“There was another sweat-shirted Kenma incident,” Bokuto was over at their apartment so often he was now completely unaffected by the inability of Kuroo’s dick to calm itself at various strange things. Daichi fondly remembered one long period of time when Kuroo was set off by Kenma’s sneeze. It made for one extremely awkward meeting with possible investors, Kuroo was giving a presentation and Kenma had tried so hard to hold it back but the adorable mouse-sounding thing just tumbled out and they all watched in horror while Kuroo had to hide himself behind a binder for a solid 15 minutes. 

Both Asahi and Noya nodded their heads in understanding, “This is why we don’t host the pre-games. That way if our “sweatshirt” comes up we can deal with it away from the judgement of others.”

This piqued Bokuto’s interest, “Oh, ho ho, you guys have something weird like Kuroo’s sweatshirt thing?”

Noya looked amused, “Of course we have a “sweatshirt thing”, everyone does!”

“Then what is it?”

Noya looked up at Asahi, who seemed ready to die at any moment, “Hair.”

Bokuto nodded his head in understanding, “That explains why Asahi’s always so careful to keep it all up in a bun.”

Noya reached up to tug at Asahi’s bun longingly, “I can’t help it, it’s just a beautiful flowing mane of sexiness.”

Asahi’s ears got red and he gently removed Noya’s hand from his hair, “Your’s is cuter, when it’s all down and stuff.”

“Awww thanks babe”

“Ugh affection, get a room you losers,” Kuroo joked, his head in his hands, still recouping.

Noya walked the rest of the way into the room and settled in one of the remaining chairs around the table. Asahi followed him like a lost puppy and slumped into the seat at the head of the table, in between Oikawa and Noya.

Noya stared pointedly at Iwaizumi’s computer then up at its owner, “Iwa, what the fuck are you doing. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows scrunched together, in what seemed to be a very angry yet perplexed expression, “But, I  _ am _ having fun, ignoring all of you.”

“Wooow someone’s feeling extra sassy.”

“Dealing with you requires requires ridiculous amounts of sass, Noya.”

Noya gave Iwa his best stinkeye, “I would like to believe that dealing with me requires just the right amount of sass, actually.”

“Well, then you will be extremely distraught then to learn that, -”

Bokuto stood, stretching high enough to almost touch the ceiling, “Well, that’s my cue to leave, have a good night you guys! Don’t do anything too gay without me.” He gave a little wave and then was on his way to deal with whatever new catastrophe awaited him.

Noya was still squinting at Iwaizumi, “What about  _ you _ ?”

Iwa let out a sigh of defeat and shut his laptop, pushing it away. Then he closed his eyes and looked at Noya like a child, “What about me,  _ what _ ?”

“What’s your sweatshirt thing?”

Iwaizumi looked lost, he cleared his throat, “My  _ what _ ?”

Oikawa butted in before Noya had the chance to respond, “Well it’s obviously me. Like, he sees me and instant boner every time,” Oikawa lets out a dramatic sigh, “It really is taxing to be this beautiful.”

Iwaizumi flicked Oikawa in the ear, “Yeah, you fucking wish, you piece of trash.”

Oikawa rubbed his ear and whined at Iwazumi (“Iwachaaan why are you so mean?!”) while Noya swiveled around to face Daichi, “What about you Daichi, what really tickles your fancy?”

Kuroo swiftly looked up from the kitchen and jumped over the breakfast bar in his haste to get to the table and join the conversation.

“Oh what really tickles his  _ pickle _ is soft ash-grey hair, beauty marks below the left eye, perfect porcelain skin, refreshingly good looks and-,” he looks at Daichi, his prize-winning, shit-eating grin growing bigger by the second, “Must I go on, Daichi?”

Daichi groaned and dug his palms into his eyes. He really hoped he would be able to avoid having to deal with his friend’s teasing words all night long but really, what had he expected, most of them had been in relationships for years and were probably excited by the prospects of a new romance.

“Wow Kuroo, you really know a lot about the guy for someone who only has eyes for sweet, little  _ sweatshirted _ Kenma.”

Daichi was hoping to send Kuroo into another tiffy, but when Kuroo had his mind on something, he never let it go, “Oh no, my friend, that is the image of him seared into the poor, young minds of Kageyama and Hinata, who in turn implanted it in me for all eternity.”

Of course those weird little baby birds had gone and told on him to Kuroo after Daichi had expressly told them the whole spying on Suga thing was a secret mission. Kuroo had eyes and ears everywhere. He could trust no one.

Oikawa was, unsurprisingly, the next to betray him, “Honestly though, did you see those pert, round buttocks? He  _ has _ to work out.”

Kuroo nodded his head enthusiastically, “And those slender hips,  _ mmmmm _ .”

Kenma walked out into the table room (it didn’t really count as it’s own room, just the space between the kitchen and the couch where the table inhabited, but it seemed appropriate) holding two furballs of destruction. He walked over to Kuroo and sat on his lap, deeming it the only acceptable place to sit. Then he set the cats down on the floor and pulled out his PSP.

“Whose slender hips, Kuroo?” 

Kuroo glanced up, looking for help from any of his friends. Daichi was happy to see that at least his  friends betrayed everyone equally, it wasn’t just him. Kuroo sent stink-eyes around the table and placed an arm around Kenma’s waist before answering.

“Just our new floormate’s, you know the guy who came over yesterday looking for some milk?”

Kenma kept playing his game for a moment, thinking, “You mean the one with the light hair with the little cowlick?”

Kuroo shook his head up and down, “Yep, that’s the one! Daichi’s looking to tap that.”

Kenma gazed at Daichi with his piercing eyes that everyone was pretty sure could actually look into your soul and shrugged, “He’s pretty okay.”

Kenma looked back down at his game and completely missed the looks of shock currently being pointed at him from all directions. Asahi’s mouth was half-open, waiting for the chips in his frozen hand a couple of inches from his face, Noya was almost standing in his chair, Iwaizumi was paused with his hand on top of Oikawa’s head, mid-noogie, and Oikawa’s face was one of surprised elation. Daichi was snickering at the new horrified manner of Kuroo’s face as he stared at Kenma and pulled him a little closer.

Kenma seemed to finally notice the deafening silence around him because he looked up at all of his friends, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

Kuroo was the first to break the quiet, “Kenma. You just said he was pretty okay.  _ Pretty  _ okay.”

Kenma turned back to Kuroo, “So what?”

“SO, you never call anyone anything other than just ‘okay’,” he looked to his friends for encouragement, and they all gave little noises of agreement, Oikawa’s was extra enthused.

Kenma looked down, a little pink coming to his cheeks, then he mumbled at his game, “The cats liked him.”

Noya looked from Ed the Cat to Kenma, “Even the one who hates Asahi, who is, let me remind you, the purest cinnamon roll this world has ever seen, likes this guy?”

“Ed likes him more than he likes Kuroo.”

Kuroo took offense to that, “Hey, me and Ed get along fine as long as he isn’t being the biggest Kenma-hog of all time. But unfortunately, he is the epitome of a cockblock. Should’ve named him Ed the Cockblock, really.” “Kuroo, language, please.”

“Umm, okay, Ed the Penis-Denyer.” He looked to Kenma for approval, who just let out a small exasperated sigh.

Daichi made the mistake of chuckling at the entire exchange, reminding his “friends” of the harassment they were supposed to be subjecting him to. Oikawa leaned over the table towards Daichi.

“Not only does he look like an angel and does Ed the Dick-Deterrent like him, he’s also a feisty little fucker.”

Noya seemed very interested in this, also leaning in, “Oh  _ really _ .”

Daichi needed to diffuse this situation before it got out of hand, “Oikawa, it wasn’t even that-”

“Shh Daichi, I’m listening to a story,” Noya waved him off and used his hands to build a wall between his face and Daichi’s glare. Oikawa was much too pleased with this whole situation.

“You should’ve heard him in the hallway last night. We were talking about last week, you know with the public nudity and everything, and he basically came out and said, ‘Daichi, I want you in my pants, take me now against this shitty, shitty ice machine.’”

Daichi felt heat rising to his face as the thought. He looked down at his hands in his lap,”He- he did not.” 

Fucking words, failing him left and right. Noya let out another loud gasp, “Daichi. Wait, Daichi are you  _ flustered _ ?”

Oikawa wouldn’t stop talking, he seemed to be on a roll, “Oh yes and Daichi stood there,  _ drooling _ after this man. And honestly Daichi if you don’t go for it, I’m going to have to because god  _ damn _ that man is fi-,” Iwa smacked Oikawa in the back of the head with his computer, “OW, Iwachan, WHY.”

Iwaizumi shrugged and began inspecting his computer for damage, “Because,” He noticed a small dent on one edge, “Now look what you’ve gone and made me do, you fucking gerbil. There better not be any internal damage or I’ll never forgive you.”

Oikawa glared at Iwa, “How do you even  _ begin _ to blame me for that. You know what, whatever. I’ll just go date Suga instead.”

Noya joined in, “Yeah I might have to grab a bite of Daichi’s man-cake too, if the stories are true.”

Asahi looked utterly betrayed, “But I thought I was all the mancake you needed,” he sniffed.

Noya quickly reached across the table to Asahi, “No of course you are, baby! I’m just torturing Daichi is all. You know you’re all the ma-”

He was interrupted by a slightly pleasant rhythm being tapped into Kuroo and Kenma’s door. Everyone looked at each other for a second and then all hell broke lose. Kuroo was picking Kenma up, who seemed unfazed by it all, still staring intently at his PSP. Oikawa and Noya got into a fight in their struggle to be the first to the door and Iwaizumi was not so silently screaming about the trail mix that had been dumped in his lap when his boyfriend thought it was a good idea to climb over the table, which was stocked full of snacks. 

Daichi managed to grab Oikawa and Noya by the backs of their shirts, which they were slowly writhing out of, but of course this meant Kuroo was able to swoop past them no problem, Kenma still in tow. He set down the small, still unperturbed man next to him by the door, and opened it, revealing Suga.

Kuroo greeted him, “Why, hello Suga! You all ready for a great night out with your floormates?”

Suga looked in to see Daichi holding back the two mongrels and let out a high, airy, refreshing laugh, “As ready as I’ll ever be!”

At the sound of his black magic, perfect, angelic voice, Daichi dropped Oikawa and Noya into a heap on the floor. Oikawa glared up at him, devious look in his eye, “Well, this is gonna be a  _ great _ time.”

Daichi had never been more afraid in his life. He gave Noya a hand up, leaving Oikawa to suffer where he was and they moved to the side to let Suga enter. Kuroo started on the introductions.

“So, of course, you know Kenma and me. The one on the floor is Oikawa, which you also already know. Then Daichi, who you  _ definitely _ know.”

Suga gave a quick hand to Oikawa, helping him up and sent them all a warming smile, lingering a little longer on Daichi, “Nice to see all of you again, thanks for inviting me along.”

Oikawa dusted off his shirt and resituated his hair, “Pleased you could come, Suga-chan, Daichi is a lot more entertaining when you’re around.” 

Suga cocked his head towards Daichi, a playful smile tugging at the edge of his lips. The mischievous glint Daichi was growing a weakness for was in his eye.  

“You mean he’s not always this cute?”

Daichi pulled Noya in front of him to divert attention from him and his brain’s new love of not working, “Suga, have you met Noya yet? He’s really great at receiving.”

Noya squinted behind him at Daichi, prompting him to review what he said. It took him a beat to realize his egregious error.

“Oh fu- shit I meant like, receiving balls,” Oikawa face-palmed and let out a small snicker, Daichi hurried to correct his second mistake, “NO, like volleyballs. Although I guess the other kind of balls as well.”

He was awarded with a melodic giggle from Suga for his blunder. Suga turned his attention to Noya, “You play volleyball? Me too, I’m a setter.”

“I kno-”

Daichi sent a swift kick into Noya’s shin, to remind him that officially, they did not, in fact, know that Suga played volleyball. Noya winced and quickly amended his statement.

“I  _ noticed  _ you at the courts yesterday.”

Suga heaved a sigh and looked a little put out, “Yeah, I just wish there was someone to set to, no one here seems to play.”

Damn Oikawa and his twinkling, demonic eyes, “Oh, Sugachan, you can play with us while you’re staying. We have a work league that plays every Tuesday night.”

Suga’s eyes lit up at the prospect, “I would love to, if that’s alright with everyone,” his eyes darted to each person individually, hopeful.

Kuroo clapped a hand on his back, “We insist that you join, really,” he grinned at Oikawa, hand still firmly grasped on Suga’s shoulder, “Having Oikawa as our setter is getting a little boring anyway, what with all the angst between him and Kageyama. Most of the time we aren’t even really playing, just waiting for them to finish their testosterone-fueled death stare contests.

Oikawa reeled back, mockingly placing a hand on his heart as if he had been severely hurt, “Kuroo, you wound me.”

Kuroo shrugged, leaning a little closer to Suga before turning his gaze to Daichi, “Besides, Suga-san, I think Daichi would love to see how well you handle balls.”

Kuroo watched Daichi becoming increasingly flustered (he felt so hot, he was surprised his clothes weren’t in the process of burning off his body), then turned to Suga to gauge his reaction. 

Suga grinned slyly, looking Daichi up and down, “I think he’ll find I handle them quite well, on and off the court.”

Every drop of blood rushed to Daichi’s face and he felt his legs grow weak beneath him. Butterflies danced in his stomach and he cleared his throat to keep whatever the noise forming in the back of his throat was from slipping out. Suga seemed enthused by Daichi’s reaction, letting out a small, chiming giggle. Shock flashed across Kuroo’s face before the grin returned, wider than ever. Both Oikawa and Kuroo stared at Suga as if they had found their messiah.

Kuroo released Suga from his hold and leaned back, “Oh, it’s refreshing to hear something so dirty. It’s been  _ years _ since I’ve heard anything like that,” Kuroo placed his chin on top of Kenma’s head, the shorter man still completely disconnected from the world, fingers flashing across his game, “Kenma, why don’t you ever talk to me like that?”

Kenma tilted his head up, trying to look at Kuroo, “Because you don’t need the extra provocation.”

Kuroo resituated his hands under his head on Kenma’s hair and stuck his lips out in a slight pout, “But I  _ want _ it.”

Without another word, Kenma turned and walked back into the table room, leaving Kuroo’s hands grasping at empty air.

Noya laughed at Kuroo then turned to Suga, “Come on Suga, I’ll introduce you to my sexy, sexy boyfriend and the rest of the heathens.”

Noya and Suga now left the hallway, chatting amiably about the various merits of dating a cook. Kuroo and Oikawa made to follow but Daichi grabbed their arms and pulled them into the kitchen. Oikawa squawked a bit but let himself be led with little resistance. Kuroo was harder to pull, wanting to get back to Kenma and continue their discussion of the whole “dirty talk” issue.

“Daichi, what the fuck.”

Oikawa poked Kuroo in the ribs, “Language Kuroo~”

Kuroo fell silent and crossed his arms over his chest, opting to wait for Daichi’s explanation instead of subjecting himself to the torture that was coming up with a new and interesting ways to replace his favorite versatile one. Oikawa followed suit and leaned against the counter, trying to analyze the situation.

Daichi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted to ten. He felt some of the heat fall back from his face to where it belonged and some of the butterflies seemed to settle. When he opened his eyes, he glared menacingly and backed up a few steps so he didn’t have to obviously look up at the two taller men.

“Don’t torture Suga.”

His friends let out loud, barking laughs, almost in unison. Spooky. 

Kuroo wiped his eyes, elbow now leaning on Oikawa’s shoulder for support, “Torture  _ him _ ? Please, that man takes everything in stride. In all honesty, I’m more afraid for our poor, committed-in-healthy-relationship souls. They can’t take this kind of flirtation.”

Oikawa straightened up, removing Kuroo’s arm from him, “Really though, Refreshing-kun even had my heart rate increasing there. You need to seize the lemons life has given you in the form of this man”

Daichi squinted his eyes at Oikawa, “...Refreshing-kun?”

Oikawa shrugged, “I don’t know, Kuroo said something about it first and it really just sticks, you know? He even  _ smells _ kind of minty.”

Kuroo inhaled as if trying to remember, “Ooo yes, and like just a hint of something kind of sweet, yet floral, like, like uu-”

Oikawa jumped in, excitement in his voice, “Lavender!”

“YES, that’s it lavender, man I was leaning on him and DAMN that shitake mushrooms was good.”

Daichi felt a slight pang of jealousy and made a mental note to discreetly sniff Suga, just to make sure his friends weren’t just trying to get a rise out him, not matter how well it was working.

Daichi lowered his voice so it took on the quality of the calm right before the storm of rage,”I swear if the both of you don’t stop talking about Suga I will maim you with a dull rusty spoon then use the lemons life gave me to rub the juice into your various bleeding orifices.”

“But aren’t the lemons Refreshing-kun in this metaphor? Because if so, I wouldn’t mind him in some of my orifices--”

Daichi let his words to Oikawa come out as a hiss, “Dull rusty spoon Oikawa, with extra tetanus.”

Oikawa backed behind Kuroo, but laughed as he looked out around his shoulder, “Daichan is feisty when it comes to Refreshing-kun.”

Kuroo joined in Oikawa’s chuckles, a little more nervously considering he was facing the brunt force of Daichi’s stare, “I know, isn’t it precious. Our little boy, all grown up and lusting after a beautiful man.”

Daichi closed his eyes again, only to open them and be disappointed to see his whole life wasn’t just a dream and yes, he was actually friends with these people. He let his gaze soften a little, unable to stay actually mad at them. He pointed them out of the kitchen.

“Go young troublemakers, wreak havoc on my life to your hearts’ content.”

They happily scurried off to join everyone else at the table. Daichi waited a few moments before entering as well and laughed quietly at the mess before him. 

Kuroo had reclaimed Kenma and sat at the head of the table on top of a small piano bench that forced Kenma to sit with his legs dangling over Kuroo’s (he really didn’t look that put out about it). On his right were Oikawa and Iwazumi, in separate chairs and the later having abandoned his computer on the side table by the couch behind him. Noya acted as a buffer zone at the corner of the table between Asahi and Oikawa, who loved to harass the shy, large man. However, since Noya was currently out of his seat and on the table, yelling something at Kuroo, Oikawa had taken the opportunity to lean behind Noya and whatever he was saying to Asahi was making the poor guy redder than Daichi had ever seen him. He was just about to go break them up when he noticed, Suga, who was seated by Asahi, lean towards Oikawa and say something that completely redirected his attention to him. Asahi breathed a visible sigh of relief, Suga smiled at him sweetly before continuing the conversation with Oikawa. This magical, magical man.

It looked like the Knights of the Round Table except the table wasn’t round and Daichi was sure the knights weren’t all half-sprawled across said table in a heated debate about (if Daichi had inferred correctly from Asahi’s reaction and Noya’s screams of “That doesn’t even COUNT as a sex thing”) who had the weirdest sexual fantasies, a game Kuroo was usually the undisputed winner of.

“Actually, it is a sex thing.”

Noya moved even further onto the table to squint directly at Kuroo’s face, “But. But  _ how _ .”

Kenma leaned away from Noya, who was invading his personal space, “Yuu, Kuroo can turn anything into a sex thing. There’s a whole section of outerwear I’m not even allowed to look at.”

Noya moved back to his seat, sighing, “I guess we are talking about the guy who occasionally gets turned on by infomercials.”

“They were advertising bird houses man, and that was during my whole bird-related dream after Akaashi and Bokuto got the parakeet thing.”

Kenma gave Kuroo a mild look of loving disgust, “And then promptly had to get rid of the bird because you were being all weird about it.”

Kuroo threw his hands up from where they rested on Kenma’s hips, “I can’t control my subconscious mind, it wants what it wants.”

“Gross Kuroo.”

Daichi sat down in the only remaining seat, strategically placed next to Suga. He leaned forward with his forearms on the table, “I am not nearly drunk enough to be having this conversation.”

Noya shot up from his seat, “That can be remedied!” He went to the kitchen and returned quickly with glasses and alcohol.

Daichi glanced at Suga, who looked like a kid in a candy shop, a very corrupted kid with a purpose. Suga turned to Kuroo and Kenma, “Would you guys happen to have a deck of cards?”

Kuroo, who was busy wrestling Kenma’s PSP out of his hands, looked up, a hint of excitement in his eyes, “Why yes we do. What did you have in mind?”

Suga flashed a grin back at him and leaned forward, suddenly in Daichi’s table space. Some red rose to his face when the faint scent of mint and lavender hit his nostrils. I took a couple of discreet sniffs and tensed, trying to keep his body from sinking into the smell. 

Suga didn’t seem to notice Daichi’s dilemma and continued his conversation with Kuroo, “Kings.”

Kuroo’s grin stretched across of his face, his excitement becoming mildly palpable, “Fuck. Yes,” Kenma opened his mouth about to say something, “I’m sorry, kitten, but that required a nice f-bomb to be dropped.”

He set Kenma down on the bench and hurried into the kitchen to grab a deck of cards. Daichi moved his attention back to Suga, “Kings?”

Suga looked up at him from where he was leaning against the table, nodding his affirmation, “College drinking game.”

Asahi mouthed “Kings?” to Noya in confusion. Noya just shrugged. Daichi narrowed his eyes at Asahi, “Wait you went to college, Asahi, shouldn’t you know these things?”

Asahi lowered his head to stare at his fingers on the table, “I wasn’t really the party kind of guy.” 

Noya placed a hand on Asahi’s stubble, “And that’s what makes you my pure, beautiful ray of sunshine.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes when Asahi’s cheeks started burning. Suga looked at them and Daichi thought he saw a flash of envy and sadness in his eyes that made Daichi want to squeeze his hand for comfort, but then it was gone and Kuroo was back in the room, shuffling a deck of cards decorated with various breeds of cats, “Get ready to be wasted my friends.”

Oikawa looked alarmed, “Ummm, we have to be at the planetarium in a couple hours, it’s an hour drive and two of us are driving. And I’m not missing the planetarium.”

“Psht, don’t even worry about it.” Kuroo continued shuffling the cards.

“Kuroo, I’m not missing the planetarium and if I remember correctly from my short few months at college, Kings is not a, ‘We can totally make it to the planetarium after playing this’ kind of drinking game.”

Kuroo sighed, “Okay, you and I just won’t drink then. Everyone else, only chug beers and NO SHOTS. Mixed drinks are to be made and facilitated by Oikawa, since he’s decided to be the fun-killer.”

Oikawa pouted a bit but must have found these rules satisfactory because he didn’t complain anymore, just muttered something about the show starting at 10 sharp, no late arrivals.

Iwaizumi rubbed his back before leaning forward along with the rest of the group, “Drunk planetarium could actually make space seem interesting,” Oikawa glared at him for a moment, “How do we play?”

Suga placed a 22 ounce can of beer in front of him and Kuroo fanned the cards around it, “Be ready to be corrupted, my friends.”

***

45 minutes and 3 cases of beer later, Daichi was slowly, drunkenly trying to place his card under the already strained tab of the beer in the middle. The one rule he had bothered to remember in this entire game was that whoever popped the tab had to down the entire thing. Kenma had barely made it before him and if he could get this card under without incident, Suga would be the one to drink. A sacrifice Daichi would have to make. He had been working at it for the past five minutes, calibrating angles and proper applications of force and most of the table had grown bored. They resorted to complaining about the guests, something drunk Kenma  _ loved _ to do. 

“Ugh and they don’t even consider the fact that people have to clean up after them. It’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, sometimes I fucking hate our guests,” Iwaizumi glances at Suga, “No offense, Suga.”

Suga’s cheeks were pink and with every drink he scooted closer to Daichi, sometimes practically in his lap when talking across the table,as he was doing now, “None taken, feel free to berate my fellow Black Crow attendees.”

Kenma continued with his previous rant, “AND they’re always stealing all the soaps, shampoos, even cleaning supplies from their room.”

Suga shook his head, “ _ Dirty _ bastards.”

Daichi let out a laugh and Suga smiled at him. Kenma turned his head to hide a giggle, Kuroo spit out the drink he was working on, Iwaizunmi shook his head in disgust. Noya was looking around in confusion.

“Wait, I don’t get it, why is that funny?” 

Oikawa leaned in towards Suga, “It was going so well and then you had to go and make a pun.”

Daichi moved his card underneath the tab again, ready to finally make his move, “Unless you stop we won’t be allowed to associate with you anymore.”

“Aw, but puns are a lifestyle, I can’t just give that up. Guess I’ll have to be leaving,” Suga leaned into Daichi so he could whisper into his ear, then with one hand turned Daichi’s face towards him so their cheeks were touching. Daichi could feel his heart slowly try to break its way out of his chest and became suddenly very aware of the fact that Suga could probably feel it to. Suga ran his fingertips up Daichi’s thigh, coming dangerously close to finding the reason why Daichi’s pants now felt two sizes too small, “I’ll miss you though.”

Suga smiled against Daichi’s ear when he gasped (a minor side effect of his mind deciding to just completely shut down). Daichi’s muscles tensed once again to keep him from ravaging this man here and now and in response he heard the tab pop and the satisfying hiss of carbonation being released. He slowly turned his head back to the 22 ounce of the name brand piss water he’d been dreading like the plague, its tab freshly popped, and the cards that had been snuggly secured under it splayed around the table.

Suga raised his arms in the air, whooping triumphantly, then pointing a finger at the can, “Daichi, drink!”

Daichi grabbed the can and held it to his lips, “You are the devil incarnate.”

Suga gave him a prize-winning smile and leaned his head on his hand on the table. His eyes gave hint to the fact that he was very aware of exactly how devious he was, “Drink.”

He sighed against the rim of the can, before tipping it up and finishing it in record time. It was absolutely rancid and the bubbles burned on the way down despite the drink having reached room temperature quite a while ago.  Out of spite, he slammed it down on the table, crushing it with his palm. Daichi leaned on the table, pointing an accusing finger at Suga, “You are now responsible for everything and anything that happens tonight.’

Oikawa joined in their leaning, “Well, I don’t know about all you, but I was missing drunk Daichi.” 

Kuroo nodded his head vehemently in agreement, “I have been craving some Daichi love.”

Daichi felt warmth spread through his body, the almost complete hour of binge drinking finally taking its effect on him. It was a nice feeling though. Very relaxing. Very good for finding the nearest human person, for snuggles. 

His eyes lazily drifted to Suga, who was smiling, looking rather amused. Daichi mirrored his position, raising one arm to his face and squishing his cheek in, “So Suga,” he asked seriously, “What is your opinion on snuggles?”

Suga’s eyes widened as he let out a small twinkling laugh, “Wow Daichi, you’re a bit drunk, aren’t you.”

Daichi waved a dismissive hand in front of his face, “I heard no mention of snuggles in that previous statement, therefore I am choosing to ignore it.”

“So you’re just going to ignore me until I tell you my feelings on ‘snuggles’?”

Daichi made a point of looking everywhere else in the room but at Suga, which turned out to be a problem because he was the nicest looking thing in the room, without him everything else seemed kind of dull. 

“Well then, if you must know, snuggles are good.”

Daichi did his best to narrow his eyes on Suga but they were already having a hard time focusing on anything so he wasn’t quite sure if he got the  mildly offended effect he was going for across, “No, no, no. Suga. Snuggles are  _ great _ .”

Suga giggled again and looked to Oikawa, hoping for an explanation. Oikawa smiled and patted Daichi on the head, Daichi leaned into the contact, “Daichi is a big teddy bear drunk. He smothers the closest human thing with affection.”

Daichi nodded his head and gestured at Iwaizumi, “Yeah and you wouldn’t know by looking at him, but Iwa gives the  _ best _ cuddles,” he leaned in towards Suga as if he was going to tell him a secret, but whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, “I think that’s why Oikawa stays with him.”

Oikawa removed himself from the table and stretched upwards, “That and the sex.”

It was now Iwaizumi’s turn to try and look offended, “Is that all you guys keep me around for, my body?”

Daichi let out an insistent “No,” at the same time Oikawa nodded his head up and down with a “Yes.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and flicked Oikawa’s ear, “It’s a good thing for you I seem to be attracted to royal shit baskets.”

Oikawa’s lower lip fell into a pout, “Mean, Iwachan.”

Daichi turned back to Suga, determined to continue their previous conversation, “Yeah, but Kuroo is like a space heater. It’s absolutely ridiculous, Kenma’s the only one who can deal with it, I think. He’s actually like a cat, him and his brethren, Edward and Rupert, literally pile on top of Kuroo when we have movie night.”

“OH, the meows?,” Suga calling cats ‘meows’ could not be legal. There is no way one person could be so precious, “I love them so much, Ed is such a giant sweetheart.”

Daichi’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open in an O. Suga looked bemused by his expression, “What?”

“Suga, Edward is the spawn of Satan. He is death in the form of fluff and claws.”

“No, he’s an angel. Also, a very good snuggler if you get to know him.”

Daichi let out a noise of defeat before nodding towards Asahi and Noya “I also have the sneaking suspicion that Asahi would be awesome, but Noya always gets there before I do.” 

Suga switched the hand he was leaning on so that he could face Noya and Asahi who were now in the same seat, Noya on Asahi’s lap. Noya was quite effectively snuggled into Asahi, trying to coax his down for a kiss. A blush was spreading across Asahi’s face and he was trying his best to ignore the little kisses being peppered down his neck. 

Suga slowly moved his attention back to Daichi, his smile now sweet and sincere, “They’re so precious.”

Daichi nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, but I wouldn’t snuggle with Noya, he couldn’t stay still if his life depended on it.”

Suga bobbed his head up and down, “No good for snuggles.”

Daichi slammed a hand on the table, “Exactly!”

Suga burst into laughter, falling back into his chair, “Hey Kuroo,” the person in question looked up from where he was attempting to mess up Kenma’s game by placing his fingers over Kenma’s on the PSP, “Where do you guys keep your glasses, I think Daichi needs some water.”

Kuroo assessed the situation, eyes twitching back and forth up and down Daichi’s inebriate form, “Second cupboard to the left.”

Suga got up and disappeared into the kitchen. Kuroo removed one hand from the PSP to poke at Daichi, which Daichi seized and held on to. It took him several attempts to grab it.

“Fuck, Daichi, you  _ are _ drunk,” Kuroo attempted to take his hand back but Daichi was having none of it. He had earned this hand, god damn it, “Shit, when did you become such a lightweight?”

Daichi rolled his eyes, “Really Kuroo, do you kiss my mother with that mouth?,” Kuroo used his less occupied hand to smack himself in the face. Anyway Daichi wasn’t  _ that _ drunk. He just really appreciated his friends and loved them and wanted them to be happy. And snuggle them. Forever, “And as to the whole ‘lightweight’ issue, when I decided to use my spare time to sleep instead of slowly kill my liver. It’s been good to me all these years.”

Oikawa jumped into their conversation, a little out of breath from trying to subdue drunk Iwaizumi’s attempts to muss up his hair. Oikawa currently had Iwaizumi’s wrists in his hands, “Honestly though Daichi, how are you this tipsy, it’s only-,” He glanced down at Iwaizumi’s watch, then back at Daichi, eyes wide, “It’s 9:30, Daichi, Kuroo.”

Oikawa murder glared at them, causing Kuroo to shrink behind Kenma. Daichi did his best to glower back, “And?”

“What do you mean  _ and _ ? The fucking  _ planetarium _ Daichi,” Oikawa emphasized the word ‘planetarium’ with a swift and loud bang on the table on every syllable, “You know, the thing that starts in 30 minutes and takes 45 TO GET TO.”

Oikawa banged his hand on the table a couple more times to bring everyone’s attention to the problem at hand. Asahi jumped in his seat, knocking Noya into his chin. Noya rubbed at his head, about to say something before he noticed the slightly awkward silence that had settled at the table. It lasted for what seemed like an eternity until it was punctuated by Iwaizumi standing. His eyes shifted to Oikawa, who looked confused and slightly annoyed by his boyfriend’s sudden movement.

“Iwa-cha--”

Before he could continue, Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa by the hand and dragged him out of his chair and towards the door. Oikawa struggled away from his grasp

“Iwachan, what are you doing?”

It was now Iwaizumi’s turn to look confused, “Well we’ve only got 30 minutes, we’d better get going, right?”

Oikawa crossed his arms and stuck his lower lip out in a pout, “It’s too late Iwa-chan! 30 minutes is NOT enough time and-”

Iwaizumi cut Oikawa off with a roll of his eyes, “Oh  _ please _ you would drive through a fucking tsunami to make it to the planetarium on time. You can get us there in 20, I’ve seen it happen before.”

“Yeah but Iwa-chan, I’m not the only one driving, Kuroo’s also driving.”

Iwaizumi put on his ‘Oikawa is truly an idiot face’ then moved over to him and grabbed his hand again, “Please, Kuroo will be there in 15.”

Kuroo took this as his cue to untangle himself Kenma and grab his keys from the kitten-shaped bowl on the breakfast bar, “You truly underestimate me, I’ll be there in 5.”

Oikawa placed a hand on his hip and flipped his hair in a conceited manner, “There’s no way you’re going to beat me.”

“Wanna bet, pretty boy?”

There were a few moments of quickly exchanged glances between all present parties before Daichi called out a quick, “Dibs on Kuroo,” and everyone started in a drunken rush towards the door.

Noya was the first to make it out, Kuroo dragging Kenma behind him and the other four lagging behind to avoid clogging the door. As they were passing the kitchen area Suga walked out, glass of water in hand, startled expression on his face. 

“Uh, what’s going on guys?” he held out the glass for Daichi to take, but he just shook his head and motioned for Suga to place it back in the kitchen. Suga obliged, question in his eyes as he turned back to Daichi.

“No time to explain,” He gently grasped at Suga’s elbow and pulled him along with them, “Just remember to sprint once we hit the hallway.”

The seemingly permanent smile on Suga’s face grew even brighter, “Sounds fun.”

God this man was actually going to kill Daichi, he resisted the urge to kiss and bite at those beautiful lips framing that perfect smile. It wasn’t fair how quickly a simple smile could fry his brain, cutting the wire linking it to his legs. Making this whole running through the hallways of his hotel seem like an even worse idea. Luckily the employee wing had a back entrance so he could avoid the embarrassment of tripping over his own feet in front of some important hoity-toity guest.

Daichi moved briskly to the door, tugging Suga behind him. Amazingly, his friends had decided to wait at the door for them, preparing for a clean fight, apparently. Kuroo closed the door behind his stumbling friends with a satisfying click.

Daichi removed his hand from Suga and joined his friends’ line up, taking up the entire width of the hallway. Daichi thanked his past self again for having the self-preservation instincts to have an employee wing where his friends and he could be as reckless and crazy as need be, without ruining the years of prestige and respect he had collected. They all looked at each other expectantly, waiting for someone to start the countoff.

Asahi was the first to speak, making a suggestion, “What if Suga counts us off? He seems the most neutral, right?”

Everyone sized up Suga, his eyes big and doe-like, looking completely innocent (Diachi was almost convinced). They nodded in mutual agreement then looked back down the hallway, preparing for the countdown.

Suga nodded, “Okay guys, on 3.”

“Wait, can we say 3 then go?” Noya turned his head back to Suga, “since we’re all a bit wasted?”

“Sure, on go.”

“Wait is the go on 3, or after 3? AH, Iwa-chan MEAN.”

Iwaizumi had knocked Oikawa in the back of the head, “Does it matter? Just go on go.”

Daichi was secretly still having trouble understanding the rules, but at least he had alcohol to blame. He also used alcohol as the excuse for leaning in a little too close to Suga to whisper, “But really, on three or after three,” right against his ear. He even let his eyes linger enough on the soft curve of Suga’s cheekbones to see a light rose blush dust them.

Suga laughed, “Okay, on go, following the 3.”

Everyone tensed preparing to sprint. Daichi’s body was excited at the prospect of physical activity after a long week of consoling his patrons behind a large desk. Suga finally began the countdown.

“One.”

Daichi chuckled as his athletic friends took practiced running stances, wobbling back and forth slightly. He bumped into Suga on his left, ignoring the sparks that shot up his arm with every touch.

“Two.”

A hand worked its way into Daichi’s, he glanced up at it’s owner. Suga turned his head slightly toward Daichi’s and winked, a sly smile crawling across his mouth.

“Three.”

Suga shot forward right on three, pulling Daichi with him, milliseconds before yelling out a quick, “GO.”

Daichi glanced back at his shocked companions, almost letting out a laugh at the betrayed expression on Asahi’s face before they all chased after Suga and Daichi. He turned back in time to see the expression of pure joy on Suga’s face, a look he could see himself falling for. His heart felt ready to beat straight through his ribcage. As Daichi ogled at the man running just in front of him, skip in his step even at neck-breaking speeds, a melodic laugh escaping Suga’s perfectly kissable lips, Daichi thought if his heart decided to take him out right then and there, it wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have suggestions or just want to talk, my tumblr is here:  
> http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/


	4. Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The planetarium! And then some...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! I hope to be updating a lot more regularly. As always, thank you Lachesis for betaing and being just being a literal angel. You the realest. :)) Please enjoy!

18 minutes later, they were pulling into the planetarium. Despite all of the big talk, there was only so much one could do while still obeying most traffic laws. Oikawa’s love of space was also apparently large enough to get his entourage there first, despite having Asahi all but fall down the stairs, buying the Kuroo team an extra few moments to get a reluctant Kenma to the car and onto the road.

Daichi exited the car with shaky legs, pleased to find solid ground finally underneath him. Suga was exiting on the other side, slapping Kuroo hard on the back and congratulating him on a well executed drift a few blocks back. Kenma seemed unfazed, still engrossed in whatever boss battle he had queued up on his Gameboy. When Daichi’s center of balance returned to an acceptable level he dragged his eyes up from the ground to see Oikawa and his possy making their way to the losers of the race.

Oikawa threw up a couple peace signs, “Team Oikawa for the win!”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, “I should’ve been late, just to spite you.”

“You would never.”

A shit-eating grin slinked its way across Kuroo’s face, “To watch you suffer, I just might.”

Daichi tuned out the remainder of his friends’ conversation and opted to speak with Suga instead, “Guess it’s a good thing we got here 12 minutes early so these two had time to bicker in the parking lot.”

Suga nodded his head in a serious manner, “A very important part of our schedule, could not do without it.”

Daichi heard himself chuckle and resisted yet another urge to pull Suga close and kiss the shit out of him. Daichi worried he had said something about this need aloud because Suga turned to him, seeming slightly concerned. Daichi cocked his head to the side, “What?”

Suga pondered for a few more moments, biting his lip before taking in a breath to say something. He was interrupted by Noya grabbing them both by the elbows and pulling them towards the planetarium doors, “It’s first come, first serve and that gaggle of young space lovers look ready to take our spots.”

Sure enough, a large family made up of four adults and about twice as many children were exiting their cars and joining the long line of people waiting to be seated inside. Daichi followed Noya’s lead and everyone else fell instep behind them, Kuroo and Oikawa now in a heated debate about who would win at an arm wrestling match. The debate eventually became a tournament, they fashioned an old display table near the entrance into their battlefield. 

They ended up creating a bracket on Kenma’s phone, pitting significant others against each other in the first round.  Kuroo got a bye when Kenma refused to place his arm on the table and Oikawa was absolutely demolished by Iwaizumi. Daichi winced, hoping he wouldn’t make it far enough into face the absolute brute that was Iwa. He mumbled something about going to get their tickets before trudging away. It took some coaxing to get Asahi to battle Noya but he was finally peer-pressured into it by Daichi and Oikawa, who took turns demeaning him. When he finally set his arm on the table, he took out Noya in a matter of seconds, to almost everyone’s surprise. 

Noya rubbed the back of his hand and smiled up at Asahi, “What did you expect? He was the ace, after all.”

The semi-permanent blush on Asahi’s cheeks spread its way to his ears. Daichi shook his head, such strength wasted on someone so delicate.

Daichi and Suga were next. Daichi took his place and set his elbow on the table, it was still cool and slick, a fact he thankful for the moment Suga’s hand met his. The now familiar heat of being near enveloped him and the table was sweet relief on his overheated nerves.

He lightly grasped at Suga’s hand to get in a good position before letting a smile cross his lips. He may not work out as much as he used to, but he knew he was strong. Not that Suga didn’t look strong, just significantly leaner and despite having the World’s Largest Boner for the guy (just topping Kuroo’s), Daichi was competitive, and he was going to win.

Suga returned his smile and gripped back, forearm flexing slightly,  _ damn _ those arms. Daichi shook his head slightly to get back on his game. Oikawa counted them off and Daichi was putting all his strength against Suga’s hand, only to be met with resistance. He looked up, shocked by the raw power behind this man’s soft facade. Suga’s eyes danced with amusement at Daichi’s disturbed expression. Daichi watched in horror as his hand slowly moved towards the table, being forced down by Suga’s, he groaned at his inevitable defeat. When it finally happened, Daichi placed his head down on his free arm.

“I should’ve known,” he sighed, “The surprises never end with you.”

Daichi felt someone lean in on the table and Noya’s voice invaded his ears, “That’s because he’s awesome.”

Daichi moved his chin to his arm so he could survey his surroundings again, only to find Suga rubbing the back of his hair with his unoccupied hand and calming Noya down, “I use my arms a lot for work, so it’s really not a big deal, and Daichi’s out of practice, what with running an entire top hotel and all.”

“Doesn’t matter it was still awesome,” Noya leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, showing he wasn’t going to change his previous assessment.

Daichi looked back at the table, where he realized, much to his delight, that Suga had not yet released his hand from its death grip. He reveled in this fact for a few more moments before bringing attention to this fact so they could hurry up the competition and make their way inside, “Alright so who’s next?”

Kuroo raised his hand happily, pushing Daichi out of his way in his haste to take on Iwaizumi. Suga released Daichi’s hand then, allowing Daichi to get up without dislocating something. Despite all of Kuroo’s big talk, Iwaizumi had him defeated almost as quickly as he got Oikawa. Kuroo fell to the floor, unable to accept a second loss in less than an hour.

Asahi stepped over Kuroo to take one of the make-shift seats and Suga happily followed him, seemingly exhilarated by a little friendly competition. This match was hard to call, but Asahi easily won, still the powerhouse he had been in high school. Daichi was sure it was because of his tendency to do what Noya called “anxiety push-ups”, a common occurrence with Asahi because of his high-stress job and anxious tendencies. 

Everyone clamored around for the finale, excited to see which ace would best the other. It was a long showdown, lasting about a minute and a half before Asahi gave up and let his hand slam to the table.

Daichi rolled his eyes at the big lug, “What the hell was that, Asahi?”

Asahi looked like he was about to dart away when he heard Daichi’s cross tone, “He looked scary and I couldn’t take the pressure.”

“God, what a wimp.”

“Daichi, why can’t you just be nice?”

Daichi shot a glare Asahi’s direction, “I am nice, to people who deserve it.”

Asahi got the dejected puppy dog look again that sent Noya to his side. Oikawa returned and started divvying out tickets before Noya could reprimand Daichi once again for damaging his delicate spirit or whatever.

Apparently they had made it just in time as they filled in with the rest of the stragglers, taking a long row of seats left in the back row. They sat with Asahi at one end and Daichi at the other. Suga was on Daichi’s left and the couples were all paired up after Suga, Oikawa closest out of all of them. Suga had gotten Oikawa into one of his space rants, so Daichi took the time to survey his friends, Kuroo and Kenma were in their own world, Kenma engaged in some kind of game on his phone and Kuroo attempting to help, but probably destroying everything his boyfriend had worked for. Iwaizumi was enjoying his his few moments of being ignored by Oikawa, using it to get a little nap in before the show started. Asahi and Noya were stealing glances at the kids seated in front of them. 

The children were ‘ooooing’ and ‘ahhhing’ at the domed ceiling and apparatus used to project the images onto it. Asahi leaned over to whisper something in Noya’s ear. Noya reared back, apparently stunned by whatever his boyfriend had just told him, “NO, Asahi, I will not  _ steal _ you a child.”

He said it loud enough for the kids and parents to hear. Asahi watched in horror as they looked back to see who was threatening their children’s well-being and then resituated their group so that the kids were closer to Daichi’s side of the group, because apparently they looked less likely to make off with one of them.

Asahi placed his head in his hands, “Why do I have to look so scary, they moved the kids away. I hate being like this.”

Noya began petting Asahi and lifted his head so they were eye-to-eye, “No darling, it’s not because you look scary,” his tone became suddenly serious, “It’s because you wanted to  _ steal _ one of their  _ children _ .” 

“But I wasn’t actually planning on stealing one, I was just expressing my desire for a child of my own by attempting to use an amusing phrase.”

Noya just shook his head and moved from petting to patting, “I know babe, I know.”

Daichi’s attention was turned back to Suga when he heard a melodic cooing coming from his general direction. The sight he was treated to next probably would’ve sent a weaker man into mild hysterics, thrown off by the overload of cute that was Suga carrying on what seemed to be a coherent conversation with a two-year old. Suga kept on asking him questions about space, earning himself gap-toothed grins and long explanations on the various workings of the planetarium from the child. Daichi found Suga’s space threshold commendable considering he had probably heard the same exact things from Oikawa not a minute ago. Daichi’s nonexistent ovaries found themselves imploding once again. 

Suga was pointing to the the large projector in the middle of the room, “And what’s that thing for?”

The girl pivoted to see what he was pointing at then swung back around to talk to him from over the top of her chair, “So they can move the staws!”

Suga’s eyes grew wide, “Like the real ones?”

She shook her head and giggled at Suga, “No siwwy, they’re just pictures.”

“Ooh, that makes more sense.”

Daichi continued watching them as they ran out of space to talk about and began a game of I-spy. The rest of the kids eventually joined in and it turned into a sort of planetarium-wide competition until the lights started to dim and Oikawa was shushing them into submission.

Not long after that, the show began, a narration on constellations and their journey through the sky. Something Daichi was sure was interesting in the right context and something he couldn’t find himself caring any less about. The low voice of the space narrator that reminded him of the soothing tones on the relaxation tape he often used after a particularly taxing day around Kageyama and Hinata invaded his ears. But for once, he didn’t find himself slowly drifting off to sleep to the tranquil timbre, instead his entire being was focused the lights of the projected stars playing on Suga’s face.

Suga was completely focused on the show above him, stars flying about and zooming close enough to cover the entire ceiling. Daichi was amazed at what the colors did to the pale tones of Suga’s face and hair. After a few moments of observation, Daichi decided to categorize the tone of Suga’s hair as a pale ash blonde, and his eyes a dark hazel. He was lucky Suga was too busy ogling space to notice Daichi being a creeper and staring him down. But really, there’s only so much ignoring a man can do before he’s forced to face the magnificence that is the literal angel sitting right next to him. 

Daichi let his eyes stare at Suga’s chocolate ones and work their way down to the gentle curve of his cheekbones and his soft lips. It took everything in his power to keep from feeling all the angles with his own fingertips, testing to be sure it wasn’t all just a dream. That Suga wasn’t just a mirage oasis in the middle of the desert that was Daichi’s love life. Okay so maybe his similes needed work but for the first time in a long time, he wanted to do something about whatever it is he was feeling. A fact Kuroo and Oikawa would throw a week long parade over.

Daichi was broken from his reverie by the sound of Oikawa not so silently seething two seats away from him. Oikawa’s eyes couldn’t seem to decide who deserved his wrath the most. Iwaizumi was taking Daichi’s usual place, yawning through the entire ordeal, head nodding forward every few seconds. But next to him Kenma had his phone out, not even bothering to cover the light emanating from it while Kuroo tapped at it occasionally just to throw him off at whatever free app store game he was engrossed in. To their left were Asahi and Noya, trying to go for a round two repeat from last week. Oikawa’s eyes were slowly reaching their murderous state, he looked ready to implode.

Before he could, Suga let out a gasp and his face lit up, literally and figuratively, when the narrator brought up what the night sky would look like above them with no light pollution. Oikawa looked from Suga to Daichi and mouthed a quick, ‘Don’t fuck this up’, before returning to Suga and pointing out the various constellations. To his credit, Suga hung on his every word. 

It continued like this until the show ended and they walked out to the cars, Daichi trudging behind Oikawa and Suga with Iwaizumi, effectively ditching Asahi and Noya with Kuroo. Asahi looked less than pleased by this turn of events. Kuroo muttered, “Traitor,” under his breath but was waggling his eyebrows at Daichi suggestively. Probably making fun of the fact that the gorgeous sorcerer ahead of him already had Daichi wrapped around his little finger. 

As soon as they got to the car, Iwaizumi moved to get into the front seat only to have the door slammed in his face by Oikawa. He pointed to the back, “Front seat is for those of us who appreciate the expanse of magnificent desolation that is the far reaches of our universe.”

Iwaizumi blinked at Oikawa, “So many big words for such a miniscule mind.”

Oikawa feigned offense, “Iwachan, you wound me.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and attempted to get in the passenger seat but was again blocked by Oikawa, “I’m serious Iwa-chan. You’re shotgun privileges have been revoked,” he then motioned to Suga, who was chuckling from the sidelines at their squabbling, “They’ve been given to Suga, who truly understands me.”

Suga looked ready to protest to avoid getting on Iwaizumi’s bad side but Iwa was already sliding into the seat behind the passenger’s. Daichi was used to the antics between these two and did not envy Suga for the uncomfortable position he had been put into (the position of becoming one of Oikawa’s toys to garner the jealousy of Iwaizumi). He sent the silvery-blond a look of encouragement before taking his place behind Oikawa in the car.

When they were all finally situated Oikawa checked the rearview mirror to make sure Iwaizumi was watching before sending a sly wink and a compliment Suga’s way, “You know in this light, your hair kind of reminds me of starlight.”

Suga blushed and stammered out a thank you to Oikawa, before insisting nothing could ever really compare with the glow of the stars. Daichi found himself agreeing with Oikawa and cursed him for thinking of the comparison first. Iwaizumi glowered at his boyfriend, clenching his fists and glancing about as if trying to find the easiest thing to rip off the car and throw at Oikawa.

Iwa seemed to calm down when Oikawa started driving away, his seething settling itself to a low boil. As soon as he was out on the main roads, Oikawa resumed his conversation with Suga, making sure to throw in the occasional flirtatious comment, quickly gaining him resentment from the tenets of the backseat.

Iwaizumi had finally had enough, he pulled out a thermos that was stashed behind Suga’s seat and took a swig before handing it to Daichi. Daichi sniffed before drinking, burning a couple nose hairs in the process and giving Iwaizumi a grateful look before guzzling the ridiculously strong alcohol Iwa had stashed for moments just like this. 

Daichi waited for the liquid to burn its way down his throat before taking another drink for good measure. Right as he was lowering it from his lips to hand back, Oikawa laughed at something Suga had said. The look that settled on Suga’s face after causing the happiness of another person sent a very nice and different warmth than that of the alcohol, straight to his stomach, where the butterflies who had taken permanent residence there drank it up eagerly. Oikawa seemed dually affected by it and shot a now familiar glance at Daichi, easily interpreted as,  _ ‘If you don’t lock this down and keep it forever, I will make sure you become a eunuch and never find happiness in this life or any other.’ _ Daichi was actually quite fond of his balls, so for their sake he made yet another mental note to not fuck this up, as he was prone to do in relationships.

Iwaizumi shot Daichi a dark look, “Daichi, your man better not be stealing my man.”

Suga looked back at them, “I wasn’t under the impression I was anyone’s man.”

Iwaizumi nodded sagely, “That would be because your potential man, Suga,  is just one large pontificating poop.”

Oikawa nodded, “He’s lost in the art of man wrangling.”

Daichi considered defending himself, but at that moment, gulping more of the vile concoction in his hand seemed like the more appeasing option. He blamed the strong beverage in his hands for the heat creeping up the back of his neck to his cheeks.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Suga let his eyes wander to Daichi and linger once again on the thigh/ass region of his body, “I guess I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands then, won’t I?”

At the idea of Suga taking any part of him in his hands, Daichi lost all sense of himself.  Iwaizumi took the bottle from Daichi’s now frozen fingers, “That would probably be best.”

Suga’s tinkling giggle filled the air, then he turned back to Oikawa to talk about the great magnificence light years above them, or however Oikawa had put it. In his now rejuvenated drunken state Daichi tuned out the conversation in front of him and instead considered why it was called  _ falling _ for someone if it felt like you were flying up past the stars and into a new, brighter part of the cosmos.

Realizing once again how dire his predicament was, he took the thermos back from Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi had downed half of it while Daichi was busy reverting to his teenage years of angst and debilitating crushes, which he was slowly realizing were nothing compared to what he was feeling now, for a guy he had barely had two conversations with. Daichi downed the rest of the thermos.

*******************************

The car jolted to a stop and the top 50 station Oikawa turned on for background noise shut off. Daichi turned his head from where he was dozing on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. He untangled his arms from around Iwa’s waist and rubbed his cheek to try and rid it of the texture from Iwaizumi’s shirt.

He blinked the blurriness from his eyes and was rewarded with the sight of Suga, pivoted in his seat to face the snuggle bunny and a surprisingly alert Iwaizumi

“Hello there, Sleeping Beauty.”

Daichi pointed an accusing finger at Suga, “Hey, I have a name you know. It’s Aurora, I’m getting real tired of you bullshit assholes calling me this “Sleeping Beauty” shit, it gets real old. I’m a real person, not just some object for you all to fantasize about. All I’m asking for is a little respect.”

Suga gave him a bow in the small confines of the car, laughter in his eyes, “My sincerest apologies,  _ Aurora _ .”

Daichi tried to look commanding and insulted, instead he was pretty sure the dopiest grin covered his face, “It’s  _ Princess _ Aurora, to you, mister.”

Suga’s eyes grew wide, body shaking with the irresistible urge to laugh while he mouthed the word ‘princess’. Oikawa raised his hands as if he were presenting Daichi, “And here, for all to see, one of the 7 wonders of the world, I present drunk Daichi, bask in the reverence that has been shown you.”

Oikawa then exited the car, followed closely by Iwaizumi, Daichi protested when the warmth left his side. Suga moved out of the car and to the back seat to help Daichi out. He held out a hand, much like people do for Disney princesses. Daichi took it happily, unsure exactly how steady he would be on his own feet. He was surprised to find he still had a pretty good control over his movements. He was relieved and disappointed at the same time, if he had been unable to control himself there was no way his friends would let him skate but now he had no excuse to bump into Suga.

When they reached the door he opened it to allow his friends inside, Suga was the last one to pass and as he did he whispered to Daichi, “Aren’t princesses supposed to have doors opened for them, not the other way around?”

Daichi shook his head, “I’m a gentlemanly princess, it’s my job to keep chivalry alive. I’m, like, New Age super princess.”

Suga nodded in approval, “Your services are appreciated.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi were the first to grab their skates. When Oikawa moved to start heading back to the group, he was pulled roughly in the other direction, towards the dark corner where Asahi and Noya had discovered an abandoned supply closet a couple of months ago. Oikawa gave Daichi an apologetic look but happily skipped behind Iwaizumi.

Daichi turned back to Suga, who had a mildly worried and confused look on his face. Could any expression look even terrible on this man, or did flawlessness come in a package deal with the sass? Daichi followed Suga’s line of sight to the doorway Iwaizumi and Oikawa had disappeared through. He hurried to explain, “Don’t worry, they do this all the time.”

By ‘this’ of course he meant drive each other crazy then disappear into the nearest dark corner to ravage each other into oblivion. 

Suga smiled in an understanding way and didn’t broach the subject any further, instead turning to the skate rental attendant and getting a pair in his size. Daichi noted Suga’s feet were a size smaller than his. Then the logical area of his brain reminded him that was a weird thing to notice, and his body responded by sending blood to the tips of his ears. He gruffly asked the worker to grab his size.

“Hey! You’re a size bigger than me!”  _ Ha _ , take that logical-brain-part, apparently it’s completely normal to notice shoe size. Suga was grinning at Daichi when he turned around to look at him, then faltered slightly at his silence, “I mean-”

“Well, you know what they say about big feet,” Why did he do this to himself? Oh that’s right, sane Daichi was no longer driving the brain bus, drunk Daichi had taken that position at gunpoint.

They started walking towards a bench to put on their skates while Suga answered, “Big shoes?”

Daichi shook his head, taking a seat by a small group of preteen girls who watched him with interest, “Nope, big socks.”

Suga furrowed his brow, “Who said that?”

Daichi waved vaguely in the air, “Them.”

Suga smiled and laughed amiably. They fell into a silence but Daichi found he didn’t really mind. It was comfortable, like they didn’t need to say anything to enjoy each other’s company.  _ Woah, don’t get ahead of yourself, cowboy _ . He didn’t even know what Suga wanted from him. Of course, he had shown interest unless Daichi was misinterpreting his suggestive words and looks, which he was pretty sure he wasn’t. But he didn’t know what Suga was looking for out of this, whether it was just a fling for him or if he wanted something more serious. To be completely honest, he know absolutely nothing about the guy, a problem Daichi decided he would have to remedy if he wanted this to go anywhere. Suga cleared his throat from his spot by Daichi.

“Ah, um Daichi?”

Daichi finished tying his second skate then raised his gaze to Suga’s, “What’s up?”

Suga glanced down, cheeks tinted pink, “I kind of have a um, a confession to make,” Daichi waited for him to continue. He cleared his throat a second time before doing so, “I can’t ice-skate,” he said the last part quietly like it was something to be embarrassed about.

Daichi let out a hearty laugh, startling Suga and earning him several dirty glances from various patrons. He muttered an apology and pulled Suga to his feet. Suga wobbled a it, using Daichi to support him until he got the hang of standing on the thin blades, “Neither can Asahi or Kenma, and they’ve done this tons of times.”

“Well that’s a relief, speaking of those two, where are the others?”

As if on cue, they entered. Noya’s eyes scanned the room eventually landing on Daichi and Suga. He waved at them, Daichi raised his hand back. He tapped Kuroo on the shoulder and pointed in their direction, Kuroo nodded at whatever Noya was saying then started towards the skate rental with Asahi and Kenma. Noya started making his way to Daichi and Suga. 

“Hey, sorry we’re late, Asahi asked Kuroo to drive a little slower on the trip here and Kuroo took that as his cue to become a 90-year-old lady on a Sunday evening drive.”

Kuroo and company were coming over, skates in hand, “Hey I take offense to that. I looked 75 at the oldest.”

Daichi held back a snort, “How did you manage that as a 90 year old?”

Kuroo’s grin slipped sideways, “It’s my skincare routine.”

“You must tell me your secrets.”

Kuroo sat to lace his shoes and launched into a long and convoluted explanation of his imaginary skin care routine that was becoming so intricate Daichi was starting to question the invalidity of it all. Especially when he was able to keep it up until they had all laced their skates and entered the indoor rink. He finally took a breath to help Kenma into the large oval of ice, then bid his friends adieu to match Kenma’s slow pace around the border. Daichi was convinced Kenma would be able to skate if he tried but he refused to let go of the edge unless Hinata joined them. Kuroo was happy to let Kenma do what he pleased, just backward skating in front of him to catch him if he fell.

Noya and Asahi were the next to enter. Noya pulled Asahi on to the rink, and only when the later almost ate a load of shit, did Noya allow him to grab on to his shoulders and be led around the rink. Daichi smiled at the sight of it, Asahi looked like one of the young children who were still learning to skate, using Noya as his cone. 

Suga watched them fondly, “They look so adorable, poor Asahi, he’s so awkward with his height.”

Daichi made a noise of agreement, the only time Asahi ever seemed like he was in his element was when he was in the kitchen or spiking a ball through three blockers, one of which he rarely had time for anymore. Daichi stepped out on the ice, stopping right at the entrance and raising a beckoning eyebrow at Suga, “Are you coming?”

Suga, bless him, looked skeptically from the ice to Daichi. The entire action was extremely endearing. Daichi amazed himself with his sheer willpower, holding back a very persistent ‘aww’ from escaping his lips. 

Suga started looking sheepish again, “I don’t know, is it safe?”

Daichi offered up an arm for Suga to hold onto, “If you hold on tight,” Daichi mentally high-fived drunk him for coming up with something remotely flirty for this situation.

Suga slipped his arm under Daichi’s linking them together. The sudden absence of friction sent him shooting forward but Daichi held onto his arm tight with his own. Suga was cute, all flustered like this but Daichi felt a pang of envy at his ability to look good no matter what he was doing. He felt his mind slipping into a danger zone with that thought so instead he tried to focus on keeping them still enough for Suga to get his bearings. It took him a couple moments but Suga eventually got back to his feet and found his center of balance. Despite this, he continued to lean heavily on Daichi. Daichi found he didn’t mind the extra weight, welcomed it even.

Suga took a deep breath and looked confused, “Um, so what’s next?”

This was too cute, honestly. How did Suga contain it all? Where was he keeping it? All important questions for a better time, preferably after teaching him how to keep steady on the ice without injuring himself, “Okay, so, you just gotta kind of push off the ice with your skate like-” Daichi did a quick demonstration, shifting his weight from foot to foot to pull him and Suga forward a few feet, “-like this.”

“Like this?” Suga, bless his heart, gave it a good college try. But instead of hi skates gliding gracefully over the ice they just seemed to wobble a little before he lost his balance again, about knocking the both of them over.

“Holy shit Suga, you really are terrible at this.”

Suga narrowed his eyes but he still had a smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes, “Why do you look so happy about it?”

“It’s makes your perfection a little less daunting,” God damnit drunk Daichi. He revoked his mental high-five from the traitorous persona. 

Suga’s laugh bubbled through the air, “How are you not stumbling around right now? You’re completely wasted but I look like the drunk one.”

“It’s years of training,” Daichi cursed himself. Now he sounded like an alcoholic. Suga just laughed again and resituated himself to try again. He failed almost as spectacularly as the first time.

“Can you explain it one more time, I think I’ve almost got it.”

“Okay, try again but this time, make sure you’re not putting any weight on the foot you’re pushing off with.”

Suga nodded and tried again. To his credit, he didn’t fall, just looked like an extremely awkward penguin. Which Daichi thought was saying a lot, since penguins are the most awkward animal he could think of on the spot. They continued on like this for a while, Suga holding steadily onto Daichi’s arms while he got the gist of movement on the ice. Daichi loved how natural it felt to be around Suga. The laughter and banter between felt right, in a way it never had before.

They were recovering from a particularly aggressive stumble when Oikawa and Iwaizumi reentered the picture. The only indication of what they had been doing was the slight red tinge to their cheeks and an out-of-place lock of Oikawa’s hair.

Daichi prepared himself for what he knew was coming next. Oikawa and Iwaizumi entered the rink at the same time and started in on the intricate two person dance Oikawa invented simply to embarrass Iwaizumi. It was a fairly simple routine, something he learned from the private lessons his mother made him take when he was young before he discovered his love for volleyball. Iwaizumi had picked up on it and usually just used the time to spin Oikawa around extra fast to make him dizzy then berate him for every little mistake. Suspiciously, Iwaizumi also seemed in control of his body and Daichi wondered what exactly was in the magical elixir they had been drinking.

Daichi rolled his eyes as the duo pulled a couple fancy circles around him and Suga, “Show offs,” he muttered.

Suga giggled, out of breath and still struggling to right himself, feet sliding around. Suga’s giggling was infectious and soon Daichi found himself laughing along. Eventually, Suga gave up, huffing out a sigh of defeat and kind of sitting on the ice. He left his arm on Daichi’s, so the later had to lean down a bit to keep them comfortable.

Daichi couldn’t help smiling, “You doing all right down there?”

Suga grinned playfully back up at him, “No, I’m a damsel in distress, I require the assistance of a strong, dashing, young princess to help me up.”

Daichi brought his other hand to Suga’s and grasped, ready to pull him back up, “Well you’re in luck, because it just so happens, I am the princess you’re looking for.”

They laughed a little longer while Daichi braced himself to lift Suga. Daichi blamed Iwaizumi’s witch juice for what happened next. Suga was heavier than he had originally assumed  throwing his balance off and for the first time in months, Daichi’s skates gave out under him, sending him crashing backwards. He held a hand out to stop his fall, but one of Suga’s skates was there and the next thing he knew there was red on the ice.  _ Now where the hell did that come from? _

Daichi sat up and stared at it for a moment, trying to decipher what was going on but his gaze was being pulled elsewhere by a pair of soft hands on his cheeks, “Oh god, Daichi are you okay?”

The sight of Suga’s worried and frightened face snapped his body into motion and he was moving his hands to his shoulders, a comforting motion in his opinion. So why was Suga grabbing his wrists, stopping them just shy of touching Suga? Daichi tried to twist out of his grasp, determined to fix whatever had Suga looking like this.

Then Suga was snapping at him, “Daichi,  _ Daichi _ . Look at your  _ hand. _ ”

Suga was turning Daichi’s left palm to him and,  _ wow that’s a lot of red _ , revealed the long gash across the width of his palm. Suddenly it all clicked into place, “Hey Suga, look,” He turned his palm back towards Suga, “I’m bleeding.”

Suga’s eyes got wider, “Daichi,we need to get you to a hospital, right now.”

Daichi waved his uninjured hand, “No, no honestly I know it looks really bad but-”

Suga grabbed the wrist of the injured hand again, gingerly, as if to make sure Daichi wasn’t going to hurt it any further. Blood was dripping down his arm to make a small yet substantial pool on the ice underneath it, “Daichi. That’s because it is really bad.”

At this point everyone had noticed the commotion going on, Iwaizumi and Kuroo were keeping a small crowd of people away. Asahi and Kenma were holding onto a nearby side of the rink,, looking particularly unenthused. Oikawa and Noya were approaching carefully yet hastily, staring at the blood. Daichi waved at them as they approached, “Oh hey guys, so we may have a slight issue.”

Oikawa kneeled down by Suga to get a good look at the cut, Noya leaned behind him whistling like he was impressed.

Then he shook his head and placed a hand on Suga’s shoulder, “Daichi, Asahi has slight issues. What we have here is a problem. Verging on a crisis.”

Daichi took another look at the steady stream of blood then nodded his head, “So... hospital?”

Oikawa nodded seriously, “Yeah, Asahi and Kuroo went to go get a car,” He pulled Daichi up and motioned at Suga to help him, a gesture wasted since Suga was already on Daichi’s injured side, holding his hand up and out of harm’s way. 

When they started moving to the exit another problem made itself evident, Suga cleared his throat, “Um, Noya can you help me get off the ice? I still can’t really move forward.”

“So weren’t just pretending to hold onto my arm?”

Blood filled Suga’s face and he looked away sheepishly, “Well, it was definitely a perk.”

Daichi smiled at his successful attempt to make Suga blush. When they got to the lobby, an employee was having a minor breakdown in the corner, going on about being sued or fired or some other absurd thing. It wasn’t her fault Daichi was a complete mess. Noya excused himself to deal with her while Suga set Daichi down to unlace their skates. Oikawa took them quickly and handed their three pairs to Iwaizumi, who had just entered the lobby with Kenma. Kenma managed to not look completely bored with his friend’s pain, he gave a concerned look to Daichi but he just waved it off, mouthing, ‘I’m fine, really’. Kenma nodded, going back to whatever he had been occupied with on his phone. At least someone in this friend group had the decency to listen to him outside of work.

Daichi felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, Suga prompting him to get up and elevate his hand, he happily obliged. Suddenly he was in a car and Asahi was muttering ‘ohmigod’ under his breath at a rate that was truly astounding. It was enough to drive Daichi straight to the loony bin.

“Asahi, I’m gonna need you to stop that if you want to make it to the hospital without my blood smeared all over your face.”

A look of total and utter fear crossed Asahi’s face before the soft presence next to him flicked him lightly on the temple, “Suga, you just flicked a dying man.”

Suga shrugged, “I’m not that put out by it. Might happen again if you don’t watch yourself.”

There was something about the way Suga looked in that moment. Street lights and shadows passing over his face, revealing how fast Kuroo was driving to get to the hospital. Eyes soft and teasing yet still concerned. His hair a bit a mess and a small speck of something that looked suspiciously like blood sitting right underneath the beauty mark that threw his face into perfect asymmetry. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Drunk Daichi was really having a field day with this one.

Suga sputtered, the pink tint on his cheeks turning more rose, “You’re one to talk.”

Daichi squinted his eyes, “I’m being serious, Suga.”

“Me too,” despite all his flirtatious prowess, Suga said this quietly, like he was afraid of what Daichi might say or do.

Before he could continue this very interesting conversation, however, he was reminded they weren’t alone in the car by Kuroo, “Fuck guys, not the best time to be gay, middle of a crisis right now.”

Daichi sighed, “It’s not even near crisis level. It’s just a little blood.”

“Yeah sure, a  _ little _ blood. All over my crappy stained upholstery. Which you are definitely paying for,” Kuroo’s phone dinged next to him, “Can you look at that for me, Asahi?”

Asahi quickly obliged, “It’s Kenma, he says lots of bacteria live on the ice in ice skating rinks.”

Kuroo frowned at the road, “I thought cold like, killed bacteria.”

Daichi looked at his still-bleeding hand, “Apparently not.”

“I mean it kind of makes sense. Like you have to keep yeast cold or it’ll die.”

“What does yeast have to do with anything, Asahi?”

“It’s a bacteria!”

“So you’re saying Daichi could have a… yeast infection?”

“NO, nono of course not. I just meant tha-”

Suga came to Asahi’s rescue, “Hey Kuroo, you missed the turn.”

“I- wha- oh SHIT. Okay guys, gotta pull a u-turn, give me a sec.”

*******

Kuroo had them there within a couple more minutes and they all walked into the emergency room, showing off Daichi’s hand to anyone who gave them a dirty look. They got into the emergency room shortly after that.  

A man with dyed blonde hair pulled back by a headband and a couple piercings in his ear made his way over to them. Daichi noticed the white doctor’s coat around his shoulders, but there was no way this guy could be his doctor, right? He looked like he would rather spend his time beating up some kids in an alley. But he wasn’t one to judge, that was Kuroo’s job.

“Wait, this guy is the doctor? He looks more like a convenience store clerk,” Kuroo said it just as the doctor reached Daichi’s bed.

He just rolled his eyes like he was used to these comments then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the frown remained on his face and a vein looked about to pop on his forehead but he looked significantly calmer and in charge.

“I’m Ukai Keishin, I will be taking care of you today,” his eyes reached Daichi’s hand, he looked very displeased about it, “So how the hell did this happen?”

Daichi looked at Suga, who had been coherent through the entire ordeal and eventually Suga took it as his cue to speak. While Suga explained the situation, Ukai started in on stitching Daichi up. He was surprisingly deft at it, a fact that showed how skilled he actually was at his job despite looking like a lowlife. Ukai filled all the small pauses in Suga’s story with various scoldings, mainly focused on their lackluster first aid skill. They also learned, with more of Kuroo’s prodding, that his grandfather was the Chief of Medicine, so he came from a long line of doctors. They also learned that Ukai was quick to anger, Kuroo was having a great time pushing his buttons. Daichi had to give him a death stare after the third time Ukai pulled at his stitches so hard, Daichi was worried they might rip straight through his hand.

He finished by wrapping Daichi’s hand in a soft white gauze. He pulled out a pad of prescription paper, “So I’m going to just assume alcohol was a significant factor in all of this, so I can’t give you anything for the pain. But go get this filled in the morning. Also remember to eat something and drink lots of water, you lost a lot of blood and it’s important to the healing process.”

Daichi nodded and thanked him, then they were back in the car, on their way home. Asahi filled them in on what the other four had been getting up to while they were gone since he had taken up the responsibility of chief communicator. Noya almost got into a fight with a mom threatening to sue the rink for emotional damage, Oikawa had to pull him and Iwaizumi into the car and apologize profusely while the manager lectured him on the dangers of bringing a group of tipsy man-children skating. Kuroo was happy to hear that Kenma had gotten most of it videoed on his phone.

Exhaustion eventually took over Daichi’s mind as all of the events of the night came crashing down around him. He felt himself lean to his left, where Suga was seated across the car, his head started bobbing repeatedly, despite his best efforts to stay upright. Suga looked over and noticed his struggle.

“Wanna nap?” Suga patted his lap in invitation. Without another word or care for how desperate or lame it looked to take the offer without complaint, he immediately dropped onto his side. He laid his head carefully on Suga’s lap, surprisingly sturdy and comfortable underneath him. He let his breathing even out, his friends’ voices grew softer. A light weight rested on his shoulder and its thumb rubbed soft circles on the muscles of his bicep. It comforted him and soon after he let himself drift off to sleep.

******

Suga’s heart did a little backflip every time he glanced down at Daichi. His uninjured hand lay in a fist in front of his face, the other placed carefully of the seat. His face was relaxed, an expression that seemed rare on Daichi’s face. He seemed younger in sleep, like the worries of life couldn’t follow him there. Suga wished he could be so lucky. His hand twitched on Daichi’s shoulder, wanting to explore the plains of his face from a better perspective but Kuroo’s face broke into his cocoon of curiosity before he could act on the impulse.

“Is he sleeping?”

Suga tore his gaze from Daichi’s face to meet Kuroo’s in the rear view mirror. He nodded with a small smile, “Like a baby.”

Kuroo sighed in what sounded like relief. Asahi’s shoulders seemed to relax, “Lord knows he needs it.”

Suga turned his gaze back down so they wouldn’t be able to see the envious smile on his face. They really were great friends, one’s he was sure Daichi deserved. He had seen the caring glances Daichi sent their way whenever they weren’t looking, the ones they returned whenever he wasn’t. It had been a long time since Suga had had friends like that. He composed his face, then looked back to the front seat, “So, have you all always worked at the hotel.”

Asahi nodded, “Well, some longer than others. A few of us went to college first, but anyone who met Daichi knew how much he wanted this.”

Kuroo nodded, “Yeah and he’d been talking about it for so long I think we all just wanted to be there when he finally got it all accomplished.”

“And he did so much for all of us growing up. When Oikawa’s parents kicked him out after catching him and Iwaizumi, Daichi and the Sawamuras took him in for a year.”

“He made me keep egging on Kenma when I was on the verge of giving up.”

“He scared me into finally saying yes to Noya.”

“He’s our rock.”

“Working at the hotel is the least we can do for him.”

Suga let his fingers begin working out the knots in Daichi’s shoulder, “Do those of you who went to college have degrees in business then?”

Kuroo shook his head, “God no, that would make us qualified for heaven’s sake. I’m actually a nutritionist. Akaashi majored in something with art, he’s pretty fantastic. Asahi went to skillet school, so he makes a mean omelette.”

“It’s called culinary school, Kuroo. And we learned how to use all sorts of kitchen stuff, not just skillets.”

“Still make a mighty good omelette. Bokuto never got a degree, he kind of messed around for four years before running out of money. Oikawa dropped out after a semester.”

Asahi rubbed the back of his neck, “We make it sound like we were helping Daichi but in all honesty we needed him more than he needed us.”

“He gave us stability, someone to fall back on whenever we jumped out too far.”

Suga looked back down at Daichi. He seemed so precious, sighing every few breaths. Occationally his fist would clench and he could see what they meant. He just  _ looked _ stable. Like not even a hurricane could move him. It would be comforting to know he always had your back. He nuzzled in closer to Suga’s lap. How could someone so beautiful, so strong and loving still be single? It hadn’t bothered him when it was just harmless flirting. But with every new thing he learned, he felt himself falling for Daichi. He wanted to laugh with him, wake up and have coffee together, have his shoulder to lean on. To cry on. When Suga looked back up, Asahi was looking back at him. Asahi glanced down sheepishly when he realized he was caught.

“I- I don’t want to sound presumptuous, Suga. But you’d be good for him. He’s been single for too long.”

“I’m not sure how good I would end up being, Asahi-san,” maybe if they had met under different circumstances. A couple months earlier, or later. When he didn’t have a shitload of issues to wade through. When he would no longer be a burden.

Asahi smiled at Suga, a little confused before turning back around. They spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

Eventually they reached the hotel. Suga lightly shook Daichi’s shoulder but the larger man just grumbled a bit before re-settling on Suga’s lap. Suga bit his lip, holding back giggles sitting right under the surface. He removed his hand from its comfortable position on Daichi’s shoulder and jabbed it into Daichi’s side a couple times. 

Daichi started, lifting his head and putting a hand to his side, “You’re a sadist.”

Suga opened his door, motioning at Daichi to exit, “Yeah, you wish.”

Suga watched Daichi’s tawny cheeks turn red as he crawled out of the car. He threw an arm around Suga’s shoulders and nuzzled his head back into his his shoulder. Suga patted his head, “Hey, you have to stay awake.”

“But, why? Can’t I just sleep here? It’s pretty cuddly.”

Suga looked to Asahi and Kuroo for help, they looked delighted to do just the opposite. 

“Sorry about this, but can you take him up to his room? We have to go find the baes.”

“Of course, if that’s what you guys want.”

Asahi shook his head vehemently, “Trust me, this is exactly what we’ve all been looking for.”

Suga understood the not so subtle meaning behind his words. They said goodbye, Suga headed towards the door, lugging the ridiculously heavy cuddle bear to the elevator. Suga fumbled to press the button to the correct floor. Daichi muttered something Suga couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Daichi repositioned his head on Suga’s shoulder, his breath tingling Suga’s neck. Probably payback for earlier that night, “I said, I can’t take the elevator.”

Suga was confused. It was a perfectly functional elevator and while they weren’t going that high up, drunk stairs never sounded like a great idea, “Why’s that?”

“Gotta keep my manly physique.”

Suga examined the arm muscles peaking out of Daichi’s shirt. The considerably toned and  _ large _ muscles, “And stairs do that for you?”

“Yup, all stairs. Sometimes I walk up them. On my hands.”

“Do not lie to me Sawamura Daichi.”

“Would you believe ridiculous amounts of squats and push-ups in the confines of my home?”

_ God yes he could _ , “I would probably have to see it to believe it.”

The elevator dinged and they stepped off, Daichi whispered the next words, “That could be easily arranged.”

Blood rushed to his cheeks, “Was that supposed to be suggestive, Daichi?”

“It seemed to work pretty well, didn’t it?”

_ You have no idea.  _ Suga glanced to his side, Daichi’s own eyes were closed and he was leaning quite heavily on his shoulder. Suga moved down the hall to Daichi’s door. He prompted Daichi to open it, but he was in a sleepy daze. Suga fished the keys out of Daichi’s back pocket  _ honestly, how could he be expected to act rational around that ass? _ , and opened the door. He dropped the keys in a cute bowl at the entrance. 

Daichi still made no move to leave Suga’s side so he led them to the bedroom (which he assumed was in the same place as his own) and dropped Daichi onto the bed with a huff. He went back out into the kitchen, searched a few moments for a couple pain relievers and filled a glass (same cupboard as the pain relievers) with water. Back in the bedroom he set them on the bedside table.

Daichi was fast asleep, sprawled out across the expanse of the bed. His hair stuck out at all angles, as much as it could in its cropped style. It really was a shame he kept it so short, the locks had a slight curl to them and Suga could see it being quite an impressive mane if he chose to grow it out. Before he knew it, a hand was at Daichi’s scalp, ghosting over the face and hair he so wanted to touch. He stopped himself before he could do anything creepy, like stroke someone he’d just met’s head affectionately but before he could pull away, Daichi hand grabbed his. Suga almost jumped right out of his skin,  _ shit I swear he was asleep.  _ He started searching his mind for perfectly logical excused for his hand to be hovering inches from Daichi’s face. He couldn’t think of anything to make the situation less awkward so instead he choose to ignore it completely.

"I’m sorry for waking you, I was just leavi-”

The hand on his arm tugged back a little when he turned to leave. Daichi called to him groggily, “No don’t leave, I need snuggles.”

Suga sighed, “Daichi you’re pretty drunk and still a little shell-shocked. How about you just come visi-”

Before he could continue explaining to Daichi why this was such a bad idea, Daichi pulled his arm, pulling Suga over him, one hand bracing Suga on either side of Daichi. Their faces were so close and Daichi’s eyes were suddenly very alert and commanding, beckoning Suga to listen. 

“You’re right, I am really drunk,” Suga nodded because it seemed like the only action he could pull off, being so close to Daichi, bodies almost touching, lips almost brushing together, “And I  _ really _ want to make out with you. Right now. But I want to do it sober. So you understand how much I really  _ really _ want it.”

Holy shit. People were not allowed to just say these things. Especially not when Suga was trying to avoid any situations like this. Being in this situation right now, enjoying this situation was not an option for him. But Daichi was so real and so  _ close _ . And spewing on about how he planned to ‘wine and dine Suga’ (Daichi’s words, not his). How could Suga say no?

Suga sighed in defeat, “Okay, but no funny business mister.”

Daichi smiled and turned Suga on his side, pulling his back in close against his stomach. Suga felt Daichi nuzzle his head into Suga’s neck, “Scout’s honor.”

Daichi slung and arm around Suga’s waist, Suga’s hand, now acting completely without his permission, found Daichi’s and linked their fingers together.

Daichi took a deep breath, “God Suga, you’re so pretty. You deserve a lot out of life.”

Suga didn’t say anything, just squeezed Daichi’s hand in his own and relaxed back against the pillar of strength behind him. He let a couple tears fall down his face and onto one of Daichi’s pillows that smelled just like him. Like clean linens and coffee, maybe something with hazelnut? He made a mental note to ask Daichi tomorrow what detergent he used. He let himself hope that maybe, just maybe, Daichi would be willing to wade through the pile of shit that was Suga’s life currently right by his side. Daichi’s breath started to even out behind him, so he dared to lift Daichi’s knuckles to his face and brush them across his lips. Maybe Daichi was exactly what Suga was looking for.

  
And he swears he didn’t mean to fall asleep in Daichi’s arms. He was planning to stay just until he was sure Daichi was asleep, then slip back into his own apartment. Fall asleep in his own cold, lonely bed. Change into his favorite pajamas and prepare himself mentally for the very taxing day ahead of him. But instead, his eyes eventually refused to open and his own breathing matched Daichi’s. He let himself be lulled to sleep, a more peaceful sleep than any he had had in a long time.


	5. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi freaks out a bit more, but also, smooth moves captain.  
> Suga angsts and we learn what about!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!!!! As always, thanks so much to Lachesis for everything she does for me and this work. Thanks to you guy for reading!!!! Feedback is always welcome, of course! If you want to discuss further or be bombarded with trash on a daily basis, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hamahsauwus) . Also I would just like to warn you that someone informed me they cried after reading this chapter but I was also told PMSing was involved. Just in case, be ready for potential tears!!! I swear no one dies!!
> 
> Please enjoy!!

Daichi woke up to a severe buzzing in his head and a throbbing across his entire left hand, which was draped over something sturdy yet soft, almost like a figure underneath the covers. A figure distinctly shaped, almost like a human…  _ holy shit. _ Daichi’s hand shot up in the air, the pieces clicking in place finally for his traitorously slow brain. He was sleeping on his side, mere inches from the man who had been the object of his fantasies (sexual or otherwise) for the past two days. He sat up slowly, so as to not disturb the precious sleeping angel next to him and let the memories from the night before fall into place. Booze, planetarium, more booze, oh god had he really told Suga to call him  _ princess _ ?  _ What if he thinks I’m like, some weird kinky sex-crazed princess fanatic? _

He was having a minor meltdown when he remembered his sliced up hand, which hurt significantly more now that he didn’t have the numbing powers of alcohol.  _ Dear lord, last night was a fucking mess _ . Daichi allowed this thought for the pure truth behind the statement. It was a colossal trash heap punctuated by Daichi  _ literally _ telling Suga he wanted to do dirty things to him. Fortunately for drunk Daichi, Suga didn’t seem completely repulsed by this and had even appeased his need for drunk snuggles. A real model citizen this one was.

He carefully moved to the side of the bed, every fiber of his being protested. Daichi had to suppress a groan of pain. He turned his strained eyes to the digital clock on his bed side table, it read 7:30. Not even hungover Daichi could overpower his prowess as a morning person. Daichi noticed a glass of water by the clock along with a couple pain relievers which he took gratefully followed quickly by the water.

He cast one last longing glance at the bed, specifically the man in the bed, his hair framing his face in wisps and his mouth open, drool stain on the pillow. He felt his heartstrings give a quick tug, remembering that not 6 hours ago he had been close enough to feel Suga’s gentle breaths, even and quiet. If it were anyone else drooling all over Daichi’s new not-so-expensive sheets, he would have them up and laundering them just out of spite, but the look was so endearing on Suga that he found he didn’t have the heart to do it. Daichi rubbed the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, grabbed some clean sweatpants and a t-shirt then escaped to the bathroom to change. Afterward he went into the kitchen to make copious amounts of strong, black coffee to nurse the hangover of a lifetime.

Daichi flipped on the percolator and leaned against the counter, letting out a deep breath. What the  _ hell _ had he been thinking? He wasn’t the kind of guy to this, even if they had only  _ technically  _ slept together, Daichi was more of the woe from afar for a reasonable amount of time before asking whomever out on a very romantic, very  _ public _ first date. He was raised in a household that taught him to treat his dates (no matter who they were with, his father had added, after Daichi had told them he was attracted to guys in his first year of high school) with an old-fashioned and reasonable amount of respect. This respect usually meant no snuggling on the first date and no mention of anything past a very quick and chaste kiss goodbye at the front door. And here he was, waking up the next morning in the same bed as his “date” after insisting on a future makeout session. At least tired, shocked, drunk Daichi had the decency to promise a whole ‘wine and dining’ scenario beforehand. He banged his hand on his head, reprimanding himself, swearing to never touch the likes of alcohol ever again.

Not sure how to properly react in this situation, he pulled out his phone to contact a higher power.

>>>> To: Kuroo

Suga is in my bed.

The response was almost immediate, like he had been up and waiting for Daichi’s text.

>>>> From: Kuroo

Way to go, Captain!!

Daichi growled at the phone, did Kuroo not understand how dire this situation was?

>>>> To: Kuroo

I seem to have missed my meaning, SUGA is in my BED.

>>>> From: Kuroo

I fail to see why this is a bad thing?

>>>> To: Kuroo

He’s not there in a sexy way Kuroo, he’s there in a ‘I forced him to drunk cuddle me kind of way’

>>>> From: Kuroo

So he fell asleep there?

>>>> To: Kuroo

Apparently

>>>> From: Kuroo

Fully clothed?

Daichi decided to abandon the conversation until they were face-to-face, too tired to explain it through text. Just as he flipped it off, Suga exited the bedroom. Daichi managed to mask the ‘hng’ noise that escaped him as a cough. Suga was in the same casual clothes as the night before, but they were significantly more ruffled after having been slept on and his usually flighty hair was even more askew around his head. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and trudged over to join Daichi in the kitchen. Daichi watched the whole ordeal with a blank mind, to save them both from the awkward situation that a possible boner would create.

Suga smiled in a ridiculously disarming way that left Daichi quite literally weak at the knees. He gripped the counter in front of him for support.

He took a deep breath and gave Suga a smile of his own, “‘Morning,” He pointed to coffee maker which was now dripping small black beads of pure caffeine into the glass container below it, “Coffee?”

Suga had finally gotten to the kitchen and he leaned against the counter behind Daichi. When Daichi turned to face him he was pretty sure he caught Suga’s eyes lingering somewhere below the belt region of his body. Suga didn’t look embarrassed at being found out though, he looked pleased with himself, “Good morning, princess. How’s the hand,” Suga actually looked concerned about Daichi’s well-being, his eyebrows were kind of scrunched up in concern and his smile was soft, even softer than usual.

Daichi huffed out a laugh and tried to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks, mainly due to the princess comment, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

Suga shook his head, “Not for as long as I live.”

“The hand is okay just hurts, you know, when I move or think about it too hard.”

They laughed together before falling into a comfortable silence that Daichi eventually filled with the clinging of coffee cups. After settling on two socially acceptable ones (his friends had taken on a Christmas tradition of gifting coffee mugs every year and sometime in college they had decided Daichi deserved the most innapropriate one every year), he cleared his throat and faced Suga, “So, about last night, I’m really sorr-”

Suga interrupted him mid-sentence by placing a hand on Daichi’s arm, sending electricity from his toes to his fingertips, “Daichi, please don’t apologize.”

Daichi opened his mouth to explain exactly why he should be apologizing but Suga gave him a look that sent his jaw snapping shut again.

“Last night was a lot of fun and I don’t regret any of it, especially not the end, do you?”

Daichi lowered his head, not sure how to explain how he didn’t  _ regret _ it, in fact it had been nice to have someone to hold close, a feeling he didn’t know he was missing until last night. He was just disappointed in himself for doing it because Suga deserved the whole nine yards, not drunk Daichi demanding cuddles. He decided not to say this and instead glanced up at Suga and muttered, “No.”

Suga’s smile lit up the room, “Okay, that settles it then. No angsting or apologies for you, then.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, “I was not  _ angsting _ .”

“Sure looked like it to me.”

“You obviously need glasses.”

“I have some, should I go get them and reassess the angsting situation?” Daichi chose not to answer this question, the thought of Suga in glasses distracting him thoroughly. He didn’t even think he had a ‘thing’ for glasses but right now they were threatening to completely engulf his mind for the rest of the day. There was no way anything productive would be happening in there for awhile. Suga continued to look at him questioningly. 

Daichi avoided the inevitability of answering by reaching behind Suga to reach the coffee, “How do you like to take it?”

Suga’s eyebrows raised and Daichi once again, realized the double meaning in his poorly selected words. God damn subtext, ruining his life, “Oh shit, no, I mean. Not like that, fuck,” Suga wasn’t helping him out any, just laughing silently at Daichi so he continued to explain, “I meant the coffee. How do you take your coffee?”

“Just black.” 

Daichi tried not to look surprised, “You don’t seem like a black coffee kind of guy.”

Suga cocked his head, a very endearing gesture on him, “I didn’t used to be, but it’s growing on me.”

“What made you convert?”

Suga’s face seemed to constrict for a moment but before Daichi could investigate it further, Suga had pulled it back to the relaxed, happy expression it usually had, “The usual, I guess? Work, age, time,” Daichi poured a cup and handed it to Suga, “When I can though, I do like to get hazelnut-flavored. Don’t want to seem too grown up, you know?”

He filled his own cup and motioned to the table, so they could continue this conversation elsewhere, “Well, as a coffee expert, I can tell you I only own the boldest of roasts and I will soon sway you to the side of pure, unflavored, adult caffeine.”

Suga took a sip and his nose scrunched up, “Yeah, I think I’ll stick with the hazelnut.”

“Just wait, you’ll change your mind. They always do.”

Suga just shook his head and took another sip, “It tastes like my grandma’s coffee.”

Daichi took a large gulp of his own cup of heaven before speaking, “And what would that taste like?”

Suga put his cup down, “Like caffeine addiction.”

“Ah yes, that would be the caffeine.” Suga scoffed and Daichi responded by taking another drink from his mug, “It’s good for you.”

“I think Kuroo would disagree,” Daichi knew he would. He remembered one time in particular that had ended in a wrestling match when Kuroo snuck into Daichi’s apartment and stole his entire coffee stash and machine. It had ended with Kuroo nursing a black eye, yelling obscenities and variations on ‘coffee will be the death of you’ while Daichi locked himself back in his room, entire hoard of coffee intact.

“One of the perks of being the boss is I don’t have to listen to Kuroo.”

Suga laughed, Daichi loved the sound of it, was sure he would remember it for the rest of his life, and tested the taste of the coffee again. He seemed to be getting used to it because instead of a small sip he took a reasonable drink from it.

They were starting to fall back into silence but Daichi wasn’t ready to stop hearing Suga’s voice, he felt like a creep for it but he gave in to the pleas of his heart, searching his mind for some way to continue the conversation.

He could only think of one thing, something he’d been wondering since he’d met the guy, “So, Suga,” Suga glanced up from his cup, “What do you do for a living?”

“Professionally? Or in general?”

Daichi pretended to consider the question for a moment, “I think I’m gonna go with professionally.”

“Is that your final answer?” Suga looked at him like a tv game show host trying to get someone to change their answer.

Daichi nodded, “Yup, lock it in.”

Suga took a deep breath, “Okay, well it’s nothing exciting, I’m a wedding planner.”

How absolutely fucking perfect. After years of dealing with the wedding planners he had to appease, it was a little hurtful to know that this beautiful man was out there and he never had the pleasure of meeting one even remotely like him. Maybe the universe was finally paying him back for all the shit he had to deal with.

Instead of voicing his opinions of the subject he asked a question “How’d you get into that business?”

Suga took a drink before answering, he drew it out and it made Daichi think he was trying to come up with a half-truth. It was a little worrying. Suga finally put the cup down with a deliberate ‘clink’, “It’s a family business, my grandma owns it now but I’m next in line.”

Daichi wanted to press but Suga’s tone seemed closed off, like it was a subject he didn’t talk about and didn’t want to be pushed into. Daichi complied, and instead began asking questions about clients he had had in the past, knowing it was an easy subject from years of experience. And he was happy to just sit there and listen, getting up occasionally to refill their cups. It was ridiculously domestic considering they hadn’t ever gone on a formal date or even talked about the possibility of evolving whatever this was past a friendship, but for once Daichi found his thoughts straying from work and the hotel, and instead he was basking in the unknown future he could have with Suga.

*****

An hour later and he was still sitting here, in Daichi’s room, nursing his third cup of what he had first believed to be some a poison Daichi had concocted to slowly kill him. But it was growing on him, he wasn’t sure if it was the taste or the way Daichi grinned in triumph whenever he asked for a refill.

Right now he was sneaking glances at him over his cup. He sat with his laptop in front of him, doing work (it was very adorable, he had asked Suga millions of times before finally conceding and pulling it out and still apologized every five minutes) and was on what Suga believed to be his fourth cup of straight caffeine. His mug read ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ and Suga was pretty sure he knew exactly who had given it to him judging by the conversation he had had in the car last night. It was charming how much the words seemed to fit him, his friends seemed to respect him immensely and he cared for them far more than any normal person would. Daichi closed his laptop with a sigh, then stretched (Suga found it hard to handle this amount of sexy in one day) his muscles pulling tight and to torment Suga further, he even rolled his shoulders as he pulled his arms back down. Then he reached for his mug, frowning at it after looking inside.

“What did the coffee cup do to you?”

Daichi glanced up at Suga, his brown eyes filled with what Suga could only describe as warmth, and his frown turned into a smile, which Suga felt undeserving of, “It became empty.”

Suga crossed his arms, “Well you can’t very well blame it for it’s inability to live up to your impossible coffee cup size expectations.”

Daichi raised up his hands in defense, “Hey, I don’t ask that much, only that when I look into my cup to reassure myself there is, in fact, coffee remaining, that the coffee be there.”

Suga smiled in response. He loved the way Daichi’s eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled, as he was now. And how when he sat working, completely concentrated, Suga could see his jaw working, the impressive muscles there teasing Suga in a way he didn’t think was possible. How his eyes seemed to betray his soul, completely honest and commanding, like the man himself. Something about all of this left Suga’s head in the clouds and his heart on fire. He felt like he was constantly at the top of a roller coaster, moments before the plunge, weightless and anticipating. It wasn’t fair. He had spent years searching for someone who made him feel this way so why did he find Daichi now, of all times. If he were a stronger man, he wouldn’t tease himself by being around Daichi, but as it stands, this feeling wasn’t something he was willing to give up yet. So instead of finishing his own cup of coffee and leaving, he instead pushed himself away from the table and went into the kitchen to retrieve the receptacle from the percolator and refilled both Daichi and his cups.

Daichi grasped at his cup like a man who hadn’t seen water in days, “Sugawara Koushi, you are a saint.”

Suga tried not to blush at the sound of his name leaving Daichi’s lips. He brought his cup to his lips, “I try.”

Daichi mimicked him and they sat together, smiling and sipping at what had become an alarming amount of coffee between them. Daichi’s phone chirped at him and he excused himself, glancing down at it. He opened a text that caused his eyebrows to furrow together. It obviously wasn’t a pleasing text. Suga’s mouth opened to prod before he could stop it, he couldn’t help it, it had always been in his nature to worry over people, and Daichi looked like he needed to be worried over, “What’s up?”

Daichi glanced up, his eyes betraying his guilt, “Something came up and I have to get to work,” his thumbs fiddled with the cup in front of him, “I don’t want you to think I’m kicking you out or anything, but…”

His eyes met Suga’s and he knew that Daichi’s was a face he would have a hard time feeling angry about, Suga looked down at his own mug, still filled to the brim with the bitter, black substance, “What about my coffee? I can’t just abandon it here, it might feel unloved.”

Daichi straightened in his seat, like an idea had just popped into that handsome head of his, “Take it with you.”

Suga was a little confused, expecting one of the nonsensical answers he was becoming acclimated to, “What?”

Daichi stood, prompting Suga to do the same, “Take it with you,” his eyes literally twinkled, “And give it back later. When are you free?”

Suga felt like he knew where this was going, “Saturday night?”

Daichi nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you then around, let’s say… 7:00?”

Suga couldn’t help but feel excited, even if a little guilty, if this is what he thought it was, “Sounds good to me!”

They had made their way to the door by now, Suga standing outside, facing Daichi, who was leaning on the doorframe, smile wide and bright across his face. Suga noted the dimples on either side of his face when he did this. Suga was sure his face had been carved directly by angels. One of their most prized works. They said their goodbyes, both a little giddy, either from the excitement or the anticipation of their next meeting. Before the door had fully closed, Daichi swung it open again, suddenly, causing Suga to jump a bit.

He looked sheepish, a light blush brushing his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Um, just in case it wasn’t clear, I was asking you on a date.”

Suga heard a giggle escape his lips, was sure it was him, but didn’t remember prompting himself to do it. Great, now his body was making decisions for itself, “If you weren’t I would be severely disappointed.”

The dimples returned to Daichi’s face, “Okay, good.”

“Good.”

“Saturday at 7?”

“It’s a date,” Daichi’s smile threatened to turn Cheshire so Suga waved goodbye again and left, not wanting to cause any lasting harm to Daichi.

The smile and high feeling stayed with him until he was safely behind his own door, showered and staring into his closet, preparing for his own day. It was only then he remembered what lay ahead of him and the smile was overruled by a grimace.

*****

Daichi walked into the unofficial designated meeting area (the kitchen) to discover what new serious dilemma had decided to ruin his half day. He found Kuroo, Oikawa and Akaashi already there, leaning on a tall stainless steel counter and digging into some of Asahi’s cheesecake brownies. Daichi felt himself becoming more and more suspicious of the validity of this emergency gathering by the second. He approached the table at his full, yet insignificant (given the current company), height, “What’s the big crisis that has me fully dressed and coherent on my late day?”

Oikawa pushed a prescription bottle towards him, “For the hand,” and took another bite of the dessert, and said in a sing-song voice, “So, did you kiss him?”

Daichi took the bottle, glared accusingly at Kuroo, who just shrugged, untouched by Daichi’s menace, “Hey, you can’t text me something like what you did this morning and  _ not _ expect me to fake some large emergency to get you down here.”

Daichi grabbed a fork to properly join them at the counter, “Well, thanks to you, my pleasant morning alongside the subject of said texts was cut short by your lies.”

“My insatiable curiosity finds it hard to care at this moment in time.”

Daichi accepted his defeat and dove into the story of how he somehow convinced angelic, sassy Suga to fall asleep in his bed and agree to a date. Oikawa interrupted him halfway through to call Asahi over and Akaashi relayed the story through text to Bokuto, who was in the middle of a 3v3 scrimmage match with Noya, Tanaka, Kageyama, Kenma and Hinata (the only way they could get Kenma to set for them was by inviting Hinata along). Daichi caught himself wondering how any work ever got done when a majority of his workers were often doing things definitely not work related. By the time he had finished his recount of his escapades, they had finished two trays of Asahi’s magic brownies. 

Oikawa wiped thoughtfully at a smudge of chocolate on his cheek, “What do you think he’s hiding?”

Daichi felt himself frown, “What do you mean?” He recalled the short time he’d been around Suga and tried to recall a moment he felt Suga was hiding something from him. So far he had been only warm sunshine and words. What could he possibly be hiding?

Oikawa gave up on his cheek with a sigh, “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? No one smiles that much without hiding something behind it. I would know.”

He  _ would _ know. After Oikawa’s parents had kicked him out, Daichi had seen the flawless facade of a smile Oikawa concocted to hide his pain. But Daichi was there to hear the sobs behind closed doors, the screaming matches between him and his parents over the phone. The weeks when he wouldn’t eat unless they called Iwaizumi, who would kick down his walls and force him to move past it. But every morning they would go to school and that fucking smile would be there again. Of course Oikawa would know a smile like that miles away. 

Kuroo interjected at that point, “Yeah I know what you mean, last night in the car we started talking about when we were all little and when he didn’t think we were looking he got this  _ look _ on his face, like, like,” he flailed his arms in the air for a moment like he didn’t know what to say, “Like he’s lost everything. It was a little scary, man.”

Asahi made a noise of agreement, “And the other day when he came in for breakfast he had just gotten off the phone and he kind of looked like he was about to cry.”

Asahi handed a wet nap to Oikawa, he took it gratefully, “It’s little things we’ve noticed while we’ve been keeping tabs on him for you, Daichi.”

Daichi was at a loss for words. He wasn’t known for missing the ‘little things’. He thought he was especially good at it when it came to Suga, considering he couldn’t take his eyes off the man but maybe he was blind to it when it came to him. Maybe he didn’t want to see the pain behind his eyes because even now, thinking about what it might look like to see Suga unhappy,  _ wow _ it hurt. It seemed alien, surreal. But now he was thinking back on every moment he’d seen Suga and he could see it. Maybe a small flash of something darker, sadder in his gaze the moment he turned from Daichi after situating him in bed. Or a brief expression of pain as they gazed up at the fabricated stars of the planetarium. And Daichi kicked himself mentally for not noticing it before, for letting his infatuated heart take the reigns and fall for the fake mask Suga was wearing. But he also remembered all the genuine expressions of happiness he’d seen from Suga, like when they’d said goodbye this morning and when he’d made Suga laugh at the skating rink. The look of wonder on his face at the planetarium, drinking Daichi’s sublime coffee.

He tuned back into the conversation and was happy to see his friends had moved on to a new topic so he could zone out again. Daichi decided he would use every moment he could spare from now on to make sure Suga could feel that happiness whenever he was able. He would get to the bottom of whatever kind of angst this was, because that’s what friends/potential future romantic partners were for. For Suga. Only for Suga. He remembered the sleepy smile Suga had awarded him with that morning, a warm feeling worked its way through his body and an automatic smile covered his face. Yep, he definitely would benefit nothing from this. 

*****

Suga gave a friendly wave to the receptionist who was talking quietly to a man in matching purple scrubs, she was a woman around his age he had come to know quite well over the past months. She had raven-black hair and was very beautiful. She didn’t have much to say but they clicked almost immediately after meeting, bonding over various things like the most recent fashion trends (Suga has always been a slut for fashion) and more to Suga’s surprise, volleyball. Kiyoko really didn’t seem the type to get into sports, or much rather anything at all, but she had a quiet sort of passion about many things in life that Suga found endearing.

She nodded at him in greeting and motioned down the hallway, “They’re still in the room, he had a pretty busy day this morning so they decided to turn in early.”

Suga mouthed a quick ‘thanks’ and continued down a long hallway of rooms. Bars lined either side of the wall and the air had a sickening smell of antiseptic but Suga had grown accustomed to it. When he finally reached the room he took a deep breath and plastered a convincing smile on his face before knocking.

A voice called from the inside, “Koushi? Is that you? Come on in, sweetie.”

He opened the door carefully and shut it quietly behind him, in case the occupant was sleeping. The fake smile turned into a real one when he saw the beautifully wrinkled, smiling face of his grandmother, sitting in a seat near the window with her reading glasses, knitting some terrible mess of yarn. He leaned down and hugged her close before turning to the bed next to her, where his grandpa lay, sound asleep. Suga brushed a few wisps of hair from his forehead and kissed his forehead gently before taking the seat behind him. He looked older than he had just last week. His cheeks were a bit more gaunt and Suga could see veins running up and down his exposed arms. He looked weak where he used to be strong, muscled. Sure he had always been known for having a glass heart, but he was always a shoulder Suga could lean on whenever he needed it. Now he was afraid he might break that same shoulder if he tapped it with his pinky finger. It made Suga sick to his stomach sometimes, seeing him like this, knowing what he used to be like, so alive and vibrant. Unable to look at his grandfather any longer without crying being the most viable option (not the best decision with his grandmother sitting there) he turned to her instead.

“So, what are you making this week?”

She held up her knitted ball of pink and orange, and grimaced at it, “Well, I was attempting a sweater, but then I just said ‘fuck it all’ and it turned into this god damn monstrosity.”

Suga clapped his hands over his ears, “Grandmother, my virgin ears!”

She just rolled her eyes, “Oh please, sugar plum, I stopped pretending any part of you was virgin a  _ long _ time ago.”

Suga giggled, not even fazed by the blunt enigma that was Sugawara Bunko. She attempted a couple more stitches before throwing the whole thing in a basket at her feet, “That’s it, I give up. Maybe I’ll just name it and we can sell it as a piece of modern art. Could make millions. You know I stopped by Teru’s gallery the other day and there were three _ blank _ canvases on sale for $60,000?”

“Maybe they just painted them white, to symbolize the growing emptiness of the world or something.”

She shook her head, “No Koushi, they were  _ blank _ . One still had the tag from the art store left on it.”

Suga gasped, “It did not.”

“Did to! I swear on my talent as a knitter.”

Suga tutted at her playfully, “That’s how I know you’re lying.”

The both laughed, causing his grandfather to stir, sighing in what seemed to be a painful manner. Suga couldn’t help but wince, a move mirrored by his grandma. They exchanged glances of sadness and hurt. Suga eventually couldn’t take it any longer and broke the silence, “Do you want to go to lunch? I’d hate to wake him up, seeing as he barely sleeps anyway.”

She gave him a grateful nod and shoed away his hand when he reached to help her up, “The day I take your hand is the day I give up my dream to become a professional gymnast,” Suga dropped his arm, “Good to know we’re on the same page.”

*****

An hour and a half later they were sitting at a small coffee shop, sipping on a couple glasses of his grandma’s favorite chai tea and gossiping about the old women they had both grown up with, most now in retirement and on their third or fourth husband. Suga always felt lucky to have grown up with two people who loved each other, always and forever, they way his grandparents did. They eventually moved on to  Suga’s life, first getting business out of the way, since she still owned the family wedding business he worked for, and eventually moving to pleasure. 

Suga found he had a lot to talk about here, explaining the intriguing personalities he’d met since beginning his stay at the hotel. He kept the conversation clear of Daichi, unsure of how his grandma might react, considering she was part of the reason he was reluctant to explore his options in the first place. Not that she didn’t accept him for who he was, in fact she was the main reason he let himself explore who he was in the first place, she wanted to make sure he knew what all his options were and he credited her for most of his knowledge on the world. But he felt guilty, knowing she was losing the love of her life while he was (hopefully) finding his. It didn’t seem fair to her, they were both suffering but he was finding a way to cope, her way to cope was why she was suffering in the first place. But like a charm, as it always did, the conversation moved to Suga’s love life (or lack thereof).

“Speaking of Terushima,” Suga refrained from reminding his grandmother they hadn’t spoken about his college boyfriend in the past hour, “Have you met any new, dashing young men I should know about?”

He  _ almost _ lied to her, was so close to saying no, maybe throwing in a dramatic hair flip and sighing ‘no one can live up to my impossible standards’ but instead he swallowed heavily and nodded, suddenly very interested in the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup. If he looked close enough he could see them shaking at him disapprovingly, chastising him for shoving his happiness in his grandmother’s face. Of course tea leaves weren’t capable of creating coherent thoughts, but he thought they must be saying it in spirit, at least.

“Well, who is it?” his grandmother asked, impatiently.

Suga cleared his throat, “Well, um,” the intense feeling of guilt returned, and every word that left his lips felt thick, heavy like molasses, “His name is Sawamura Daichi.”

He couldn’t bring himself to meet his grandmother’s eyes so instead he studied her hands, which were tapping at the table impatiently, “Details, young man.”

He tried to swallow the thick feeling down but it refused to budge, he must of looked the way he felt because his grandmother’s next words were lighter, like she was talking to a frightened kitten, “Koushi, you know I’m not fragile, right?”

Suga finally met her eyes and the only thing he saw was love, acceptance, the same thing he saw the day he stumbled into her house after being kicked out of his own. It was a look that filled him with confidence and reminded him not all things were evil and wrong in this world, as he had been raised to believe. She reached one of her hands out to his and squeezed it gently, “You know it’s okay to be happy, right?”

Suga nodded and blinked his eyes furiously to clear away the tears gathering there, “I know, it’s just I,” he struggled to find the right words to describe the way he felt, “It feels wrong to be finding love right now, with everything happening.”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t the loving cackle that escaped her lips. People around them glared at them pointedly, his grandmother just spoke louder than before, “Sweetie pie, now is the  _ best _ time. Now is when you need it most.”

Suga held on tighter to his grandma’s hand, “But, what about you? It doesn’t seem fair to-”

She waved him off quickly, “Oh please, I probably want this more than you do. It seems like it’s been years since I’ve had a boyfriend of yours to torture,” she sighed and looked off into the distance, like she was remembering something, “Those were the days. Your grandfather used to joke about how he’d like to meet your soulmate before he was too old to remember his own name.

Her smile turned sad. Suga was sure they were both thinking the same thing, how close they were to the day when he wouldn’t remember. Suga rushed to change the subject to reprieve them both from less pleasant thought, even if it meant facing the endless questions that would come from bringing up Daichi, “I never said anything about him being my  _ soulmate _ , grandma. I just met the guy.”

“Koushi, you may be lying to yourself but I saw the way your eyes lit up when you said his name, this, what was it again?”

Suga’s face got hot, “It’s Daichi.”

His grandma smiled and used her other hand to pat the one she was holding, “There it is again, such a bright light. Anyone who can make you look like that must be special, tell me all about him.”

  
The spent the rest of their evening together discussing everything Daichi. An incredible feat in his opinion, considering how little he actually knew about him. When they eventually parted ways back at the nursing home, the guilt Suga had been feeling had completely dissipated and he felt infinitely more excited about his coming Saturday. He always felt better knowing his grandmother was behind him on something and it felt nice to know he would have her to talk to about every single moment he spent with Daichi from now on. He was surprised to find a natural, resting smile across his face, it was nice to know he still had one after all he’d been through.


	6. Varying Levels of Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaaaaay date night!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful readers!!! Thank you guys so much for making it this far, I'm having a fantastic time writing this fic! I still have a lot of plans for it so be prepared! 
> 
> Thank you to the beautiful Lachesis for being my eyes and for keeping me writing!
> 
> Also, if you like Supernatural and things like that, my brand new baby beta, [phantomofsam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomofsam/pseuds/phantomofsam), is writing an oc insert, take a gander!
> 
> Also, (sorry for the long and convoluted notes section) if you have any requests or just want to fangirl over wonderful volleybal boys, my tumblr is [here](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Please enjoy!! <3

“It’s just like, how dare you, you know?” Oikawa was pouting from where he lounged on the couch, refusing to look at the two shirts held in front of him by Daichi, “First you plan a date on planetarium night,” he gestured vaguely in Daichi’s direction, “Then you come  _ here, _ to my home, to ask me for  _ fashion advice? _ ”

Daichi threw the shirts down in an empty armchair, finally giving up on getting any useful input from Oikawa. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes trying to coax an answer out of him that didn’t consist of Oikawa harping about his “sudden betrayal” of the “sanctified tradition” that was planetarium night. Which was completely ludicrous in Daichi’s opinion. He’d never missed one before when others (Bokuto and Kuroo, namely) went to lengths to avoid going every week. Often, they ended up going anyway for Kenma and Akaashi, but still, all Daichi asked was one night alone with the invigorating charm bestowed upon him whenever he was in Suga’s presence.

Oikawa was not having it. He glared darkly down at him but Oikawa just returned the stare. Daichi pondered what might happen if he were to knee Oikawa in his stupid, perfect face (possibly Iwa would kill him, because he was the only one allowed to touch his boyfriend). Unfortunately, Daichi didn’t get the chance to find out because Iwaizumi and Akaashi were entering, oblivious or ambivalent to the situation they had walked in on. The latter seemed much more likely. Iwaizumi plopped down on Oikawa’s left and Akaashi sat gracefully on his right. They now all faced Daichi and he felt like he was on trial. Iwaizumi flicked Oikawa’s shin, connected to the foot that was propped up on the coffee table.

“Feet, off,” Oikawa responded to the dog command with a roll of his eyes and grudgingly removed his feet. Iwaizumi turned his attention to Akaashi, “See what I mean, it’s like living with an animal.”

Oikawa scoffed but nuzzled into Iwaizumi’s lap, ‘Why are you like this, Iwa-chan?”

Iwa started to play with Oikawa’s hair, getting it to stick up at odd angles before it fell back into its sculpted waves, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Daichi found himself once again questioning how Iwaizumi has been able to deal with Oikawa still, after all these years. Daichi could barely stand to be around him for a day without envisioning various ways to cause him lasting pain.

Akaashi crossed his legs and leaned back in a relaxed yet balletic pose against the couch, a feat Daichi wouldn’t have been able to accomplish even if he’d had Akaashi’s slender, elegant frame. It really was a state of mind, one he shared with Kenma. They had the same perceptive stare that could study a room full of people and know exactly what each one was thinking. That gaze was turned on him, “Daichi, I thought you weren’t coming with us tonight.”

Daichi shook his head and picked the shirts back up, “I’m not, I just need some help with what I’m going to wear.”

“Yeah, but I told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine, the traitorous bastard. Incompetent nincompoop can’t even dress himself without my help,” Oikawa’s speaking was muffled since he was still nestled in Iwaizumi, but Daichi heard it well enough to have an excuse for why Oikawa would be working the night shifts for the foreseeable future.

“Daichi, why would you ask Tooru though,” Iwaizumi gestured at the full-grown man cuddled into him, “does he look like he dresses himself?”

Daichi studied the petulant child before him, now whining at Iwaizumi and decided, no, he did not look like he could dress himself. On the other hand, now that he thought about it, none of his friends really ever seemed like they were able to act like the grown adults they had become. He scolded past Daichi for his taste in friends. Akaashi seemed to be thinking the same exact thing, so Daichi looked to him for help instead.

“What do you think, Akaashi?” Daichi held up the shirts for the other to examine.

Akaashi barely even glanced at them before answering, “Wear your dark blue t-shirt.”

Daichi knew which shirt they were talking about but it wasn’t one of the ones he had. Oikawa finally shot up from where he was wrestling Iwaizumi’s hands from his hair, “Ooooh yes, the muscle shirt?”

“The one with the tight sleeves?” Apparently even Iwaizumi had an opinion on this shirt.

“Is tight a good thing, or a bad thing?”

“Tight is a  _ great _ thing Daichi,” Oikawa’s bad mood seemed completely departed, instead he was now bouncing in his seat, “And dark blue looks  _ so _ good on you.”

Akaashi nodded slowly, looking Daichi up and down, “Whenever I paint you it’s in dark blue.”

Daichi felt slightly exposed, of course he knew Akaashi painted him, he painted everyone but he felt slightly concerned by the way his friends were now hungrily eyeing his body, like he was a tasty snack ready to be devoured. Evidently, this shirt was a very special shirt. He might even be afraid for his safety if he didn’t know how intensely in love they all were with their respective significant others. 

He quickly excused himself before the situation had a chance to escalate further, or Oikawa remembered he was supposed to be mad at Daichi, retreating back to his rooms. He glanced at the clock, and  _ oh shit _ only had an hour before Suga would be at his doorstep, coffee cup in hand. Suddenly Daichi felt extremely unprepared for what he had to face. His palms felt sweaty, his pulse raced. He both dreaded and eagerly anticipated what was awaiting him when Suga actually arrived.

For that entire hour, he sat in front of his TV, staring at a blank screen, too nervous to do anything else. Finally a knock came at the door. Daichi shot up, heart going a million miles an hour. 

He straightened his shirt (the dark blue one, he was hoping for a reaction from Suga similar to the one that he had gotten from his friends) and tried to walk calmly to the door. Instead he stubbed his toe on a traitorous corner and stumbled. Daichi had the sense to reach out with his hand- but nope  _ oh fuck _ it was his left hand. Pain pricked at the edge of his vision, making it go black. He barely managed to hold back a yelp and forced himself to stagger to the door and open it.

Suga was there, a beacon in his current world of suffering, bearing Daichi’s coffee cup and the most invigorating smile. His heart jumped to his throat and the pulsing in his hand increased ten-fold. Suga had the strangest effects on his body. Daichi thought for a moment he had been able to hide his suffering until Suga’s features fell, “Daichi, are you okay?”

Suga moved to open the door more, jostling the hand he could feel his heart trying to escape through. Sweet mother of God, why him? Daichi couldn’t help but wince, he dared a glance at his hand. It was bleeding again and with each movement it pounded at him, “Um, yeah. I’m fine, it’s just my hand.”

Suga’s concerned eyes moved from Daichi’s face to the appendage in question and just grew in size. When they turned back to Daichi, they were accusing, “What did you do? Were you being careful?”

Daichi couldn’t help but laugh, the mix of concern and irritation on Suga’s face left some endearing crinkles between his eyebrows and a serious frown on his face, but his eyes sparkled with something akin to amusement. Because really, what wasn’t amusing about Daichi making a fool of himself, yet again. He cringed internally, why couldn’t he have some of Oikawa’s suave deportment, it wasn’t like he was using it. “Being careful doesn’t seem to help around you.”

Daichi straightened himself and inhaled, taking a second. Okay so his hand  _ hurt _ , but  _ fucking hell _ so did his foot. He steeled himself for the worst, but there was only some slight bruising and swelling where he hit it on the wall. Daichi reminded himself to be thankful for the small things, no matter how small and mediocre they were. And, hey! At least Suga was here, so he was hurting in good company. 

Suga followed Daichi’s gaze and he let out a little sigh when he saw the damage, a smile threatened to burst out on his carefully formed serious face, “Daichi, you are a mess,” Suga’s eyebrows shot up, in a ‘eureka’ moment, “Hold on one sec, Stuart can help with this”

Daichi followed orders, standing in his doorway, in varying levels of pain while Suga disappeared around the corner, in search of whatever ‘Stuart’ had to offer. Daichi laughed in surprise when Suga returned with the coffee cup, now filled with ice, “Stuart, huh?”

Suga’s smile was shy and absolutely disarming, “Yes, Stuart the ice machine,” he rattled the cup around, sending ice precariously to the edge, “He was so kind to lend us some of these.”

Daichi stepped off to the side and lifted his uninjured arm into the air, beckoning Suga inside. He entered and moved around the apartment expertly, flitting from room to room, gathering various odds and ends. Without asking, he had managed to find Daichi’s long lost first aid kit, which he pulled several bandages out of. Then Suga pulled out a seat at the table and directed Daichi to sit in it.  

Of course, Daichi did no questions asked. Mainly because Suga’s mannerisms were so reminiscent of the nurse at his grade school after a knee-scraping incident on the playground. Very commanding in a way that made you afraid of what might happen if you didn’t listen but also gentle, caring. After finding a plastic bag for the ice and depositing into Daichi’s uninjured hand to put on his foot, Suga sat down nimbly in a seat facing Daichi and held out a hand to begin redressing Daichi’s bandages. Which Daichi was perfectly capable of doing on his own, nevertheless, he was reaching out his hand for Suga to take. He felt like he should inform Suga of this before he started giving off a distinctly ‘needy Oikawa’ vibe, “You know, I am an adult capable of caring for myself.”

Suga giggled, a gorgeous lilting sound, “I’m sure you can, princess, but humor me.” With a laugh like that, Daichi thought it would be a crime to humanity if he didn’t try to humor Suga during his every waking moment.

Suga took Daichi’s hand carefully, as if he were handling some ancient work of art (which his hands definitely weren’t, especially in comparison to Suga’s). His hands were soft and cool in Daichi’s, which were distinctly rougher, and constantly warm. Suga’s were slender, lithe almost, where Daichi’s were bricks, and significantly thicker than Suga’s. His fingers brushed lightly along Daichi’s knuckles in a rhythm, back and forth, removing the soiled bandage. Daichi was mesmerized with how they danced where his own fingers would have stumbled and his mind started to wander further down the rabbit hole, imagining what other things those fingers could dance over. How the distinct cold nature of them would feel gliding across his skin. Or how they would feel spanned out against his chest or drifting down his sides. Gripping at his arms. 

Daichi was sure popping a boner at this moment would either put a large damper on tonight or send it spiralling places he could hardly imagine. However, taking that kind of risk wasn’t on his agenda and, he reminded himself, it was only proper to take someone out on a nice date before attempting to jump their bones. He turned his thoughts away towards distinctly less sexy things, regrettably having to tear his eyes away from Suga’s hands. 

After the cleansing sting of the antiseptic faded away and Suga had ensured the bleeding had stopped, a new set of pristine bandages were applied and Daichi sat back to inspect Sga’s work, “Not half bad,” he smirked in Suga’s direction, “For a wedding planner.”

“Have you ever seen a wedding planner administer first aid? I would like to think I did an excellent job, considering some of the things I’ve seen.”

Daichi snickered, “It’s a good thing you can bash on wedding planners or I don’t think this would end up working out.”

“A favorite pastime of yours?” one eyebrow quirked up, simultaneously questioning Daichi and flirting with his fraying constitution. He said it once, and he would say it again, Suga  _ will _ be the death of him.

He bobbed his head up and down matter-of-factly, “It would be yours too if you dealt with some of the people I do.”

Suga popped the lid of the plastic first aid kit back in place, “Got some good stories? I’d love to hear them.”

Daichi glanced at the clock placed on the wall next to his bedroom door, behind Suga’s head, lord how time flies when you’re having fun, “I would love to tell you them, but on the way,” He grabbed Suga’s hand and pulled him up in one fluid movement, Suga looked taken back by his strength. He was eyeing Daichi’s arms closely, appreciatively. He thanked his friends silently for the shirt recommendation.

“On the way where?” Suga’s eyes twinkled with excitement, like a child’s at an amusement park. He obviously enjoyed the idea of an adventure, Daichi made a mental note not to disappoint.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Daichi pulled him through the door and down the hallway, past the parking lot, getting him a look of confusion that he waved off. He didn’t stop until they were out the front doors of the hotel, “Okay, first things first, how do you feel about italian, greek, and cheesecake?”

Suga tapped his lip pensively, and placed all his weight on one leg. His hair swished back and forth on his face, in a constant state of soft, airy lightless. Daichi leaned up against the steps while he waited and contemplated this fact.

Suga finally came to a conclusion, “Pasta is good, I don’t know about greek and any kind of cake is a friend of mine.”

Finally a flaw arises, thought Daichi, “Hold your horses there mister, first things first, italian food is much more than pasta.”

Suga stood close enough to Daichi so he could see each delicate facet, unblemished and fair except for the dark beauty mark. He thought if he could be a painter, like Akaashi, he would paint  Suga with all the colors of the rainbow, his skin reflected any shade thrown at it and gave it new light.  In the dimmed yellow light of Daichi’s carefully selected sconce lights, he could see small flecks of green-gold in Suga’s eyes and it absolutely astonished him. Right now the eyes glimmered playfully, “I mean, sure, but, is it really? When you think about it?”

He tried to think about it, really did, but his mind was caught up in the gently curve of Suga’s cheekbones, his nose and the faint pink color of his lips, accented with the pleasant, lazy yellow Daichi worked so hard to achieve all those years ago. Past Daichi went through hoops to find a supplier who could get the tint just right and he ended up spending a ridiculous amount of money on all the outdoor lighting. Past Daichi really loved to watch future him suffer. Daichi decided all italian food could be pasta if it made Suga happy, “Okay, but you have to give the pasta credit. It contains multitudes,” he would never make fun of Iwaizumi for agreeing to Oikawa ridiculous half-assed plans ever again.

Suga didn’t miss a beat, “Does the pasta contain multitudes as in ‘multitudes of spiritual depth’, or is it more of a metaphor for pasta’s ‘woke’ factor?”

“Actually it’s more a diversity thing, like they may look the same but each is unique,” only Suga could make talking about pasta this invigorating, “You have your elbows, rotini, farfalle, penne, etc.”

By now they’d begun walking, Daichi taking the lead but Suga right beside him. Their arms brushed together every now and then. Daichi’s mind was finally beginning to learn how to function in Suga’s presence. The brain function offender nodded his head in understanding, “I see, multitudes.”

Daichi remembered the original purpose for this conversation and moved on to his next qualm with Suga’s answer, “What do you mean by, ‘I don’t know about greek?’ I promise this is all relevant.”

“I’ve just never had it.”

Never had  _ greek _ ? In their friend cluster it had become a must. Mainly for Asahi’s sake, one of the only things he actually got his panties in a twist about was the subject of Greek food. When Iwaizumi informed him that he, ‘didn’t know what the hell a baklava was,’ Asahi avoided him for weeks because he, ‘didn’t need that kind of negativity in his life.’ Eventually Asahi caved and forced Iwa to eat baklava for four days straight, breakfast, lunch and dinner.

In a bet Noya once took Asahi to a greek restaurant and pronounced every single word wrong, Asahi had him enrolled in Greek cooking classes and kicked him out of the apartment until he could properly describe in excruciating detail how to prepare Asahi’s famed greek menu. It was the most proud Daichi had ever been of Asahi. He was even sad a couple days later when he found Noya screaming in the hallway, in fluent Greek, what he assumed to be Asahi’s menu because seconds later the large man exited and swept the dwarfed one into his arms and back into the apartment. Where they remained for two entire days. Daichi almost cringed outwardly, remembering what a mess the kitchen was without the savant chef.

And here was Suga, a greek virgin, “Your life is about to change,” before another word could be said, Daichi picked up his pace and started the winding trek to the nearest greek restaurant. 

  
On the way Daichi told his Stories of Wedding Planners Past that had Suga stopped and bent over in laughter at some points, making their journey about fifteen minutes longer but notably more entertaining. When Suga laughed he put his entire body into it and it was absolutely infectious. Suga’s chortles had Daichi in stitches by the time they reached their destination.

This trend continued for most of the evening. Daichi’s favorite moment was Suga’s outburst of profanity even Kuroo would have been impressed by when the saginaki at the greek restaurant burst into flames, a custom Daichi “forgot” to tell him about. The runner up was when he informed Suga they would only be getting appetizers there. Three different places for all three courses. First greek, than italian for the main dish and back to the hotel for dessert. No, that was not a euphemism. Asahi just made  _ really good _ dessert. Also maybe a euphemism but Daichi didn’t want to rush into anything. Suga practically bounced in his seat when he learned there was more to the evening than just dinner. Which wasn’t  _ entirely _ true, there was just a lot more aimless wandering around town involved. When Suga heard of their future plans he immediately grabbed Daichi by the hand, still refreshingly cool to the touch Daichi reflected, and pulled them out of the restaurant onto the dark night streets. Even after living in the town most of his adult life, he felt cautious out on the streets at night, but Suga bounded ahead of him without even knowing where they were going, every corner ahead was like a new thrill for him. 

After a few moments of adventuring, in which Suga made friends with no less than three significantly shady figures, Daichi’s eyes found the nirvana he’d been looking for. A small food truck that sold calzones he was sure were descended directly from God. He pulled Suga away from a woman with four lip rings and enough eyebrow piercings to pull them down into a permanently disgruntled expression. He then ordered two of his favorite from the cashier, an enormous specimen of a man he’d come to know as Lev after frequent visits. Daichi handed one to Suga who looked at it skeptically before taking a bite. Daichi’s heart climbed when he let out a satisfied sound and took another large bite.

Daichi waited for him to swallow before striking up a conversation, “You see what I mean about italian food? Multitudes.”

Suga started walking, a sly smile on his face, “I don’t know about multitudes. I mean it’s basically just an inside out pizza.”

Daichi cocked an eyebrow, not seeing Suga’s logic, “Yes, and what part of ‘inside out pizza’ does not scream multitudes to you?”

Suga seemed to contemplate it for a moment, “I’m gonna say all of it. Not that it isn’t a phenomenal inside out pizza,” to prove his point he took another bite.

“You just have high standards.”

“I do, you would know.”

Daichi blushed and scratched the back of his neck with a hand, to have something to do. Suga looked very pleased with his reaction. He turned and started off in the opposite direction from their next destination. Daichi considered the extra time he’d be able to spend with him finding his way back and followed without saying a word. 

After discovering what Suga defined as multitudes (the specifications were much too strict, in Daichi’s humble opinion) and finishing their calzones, he reluctantly turned them back in the direction of the hotel. He was loath to let the evening end, but it was getting late and Daichi didn’t want to keep Suga up. 

When they entered Daichi sent a stern nod to Kageyama, who was shoving a drooling Hinata awake. The kitchen was dark when they entered and it took Daichi a few moments of blind fumbling to find the lights. He finally found them and whooped in triumph before flooding the room in a bright, fluorescent glow. On a spotless stainless steel counter, as requested, was a still chilled New York cheesecake topped with a blueberry glaze. One of the perks of having a talented, highly trained chef under your employ is compelling them to create culinary masterpieces at your beck and call.

There were also a set of forks set out in front of the cheesecake, one of which he handed to Suga. Daichi then removed the cover from the cake, an open invitation for him to dig in. Suga placed a small mouthful and closed his lips around it, he groaned once again at the taste. Daichi imagined him groaning at other things and decided this was all an elaborate plot against him. If Oikawa really wanted to drive him insane all he had to do was lock Daichi in a room with Suga for an hour. Daichi couldn’t remember ever being so turned on by anything or anyone before and frankly, he was a bit concerned. Maybe he was deathly ill and this was one of the warning signs. Or he’d been drugged. Always a possibility.

Suga took another bite, “And I thought the calzone was good, this is, it’s,” he waved his fork around in the air searching for a word to aptly describe what he was eating, “It’s gloriously sublime.”

Daichi took a bite and immediately agreed, Asahi had outdone himself, “Be sure to pass on your compliments to the chef.”

Suga devoured some more cheesecake. By now they’d eaten at least a fourth of it, “It will be the first thing I say next time I see him,” more cheesecake was inhaled, “If Noya hadn’t already locked him down, I’d be all over him right now. These cooking skills are to die for.”

Daichi was surprised to find a hint of envy in him, for once he was jealous of something Asahi had. Chiefly because that thing Asahi had made Suga like this, a beautiful mess, almost animalistically destroying a cake. It should’ve been a bit frightening but Daichi just felt adoration. Suga had a smudge of blueberry on his cheek, right below the beauty mark. Daichi absent-mindedly reached up and scrubbed it off with his thumb. Like his hands, Suga’s skin was soft, ridiculously pale contrasted to his tanned hand. When he finally realized what he was doing, his finger was more carressing Suga’s face, and Suga’s eyes were wide with surprise, but also mesmerized. They were locked on Daichi’s face, studying him. Suga wasn’t even touching him but a shiver still ran down Daichi’s spine. The moment was eventually broken because Daichi decided it was a good time to clean up.

They trudged back up to their rooms, trying to extend the amount of time they had together before they had to say goodbye. Suga even walked past his room to Daichi’s, giving them a few extra steps.

They stared at the door, Daichi spent the time trying to find the right thing to say, “Well, this is me.”

God damn it, what a lame line. Luckily Suga didn’t seem to mind Daichi’s dopey tendencies, “So this is where we say goodbye, then?”

Daichi turned his head to Suga. Took in the hopeful, nervous expression on his face. 

“Suga I-” Suddenly he was being pushed, back against his door by the urgent weight of Suga’s body and his lovely lips were pressing against Daichi’s. At first, the kiss was urgent, clumsy, but they quickly acclimated to each other and it deepened into something more tender. Daichi wanted to know what Suga tasted like and he finally gave into temptation, teased Suga’s bottom lip with his tongue. He tasted faintly of blueberries and something more fresh, like spring. Suga gasped, opening his mouth for Daichi to explore, Daichi returned the favor and soon they were nipping and teasing at each other, learning how the other liked to be kissed.

Daichi realized his hands were rigid, still at his sides, while Suga’s were hands timidly held his sides, waiting for an invitation. Daichi placed one hand on Suga’s side, letting the other travel to the nape of his neck where he tilted Suga’s head back to a better angle and turned the kiss into something more desperate. One of Suga’s hands fumbled with the doorknob behind Daichi, he made a frustrated noise against Daichi’s lips, causing a slight vibration that Daichi relished before joining in the struggle to get them somewhere more private. Thankfully, the door swung open and Suga had the good sense to slam it shut behind them before they went crashing back onto the couch. 

Suga landed on top of Daichi and resituated so that one leg slotted in between Daichi’s. This brought attention to how aroused they both were and Suga smiled against Daichi’s lips at the groan this revelation elicited. Daichi should be embarrassed. He was a gentleman for God’s sake, but he couldn’t find it in his better sense to care while Suga was kissing the life out of him. Suga sat up and Daichi pouted at the extreme lack of Suga pushed up against him. Suga giggled and looked up and down Daichi from his perch above him. His hungry gaze left Daichi red at the ears from embarrassment and arousal.

Suga pulled at his shirt, “This article of clothing has been bothering me all day,” Suga was flushed along his cheekbones, “Is it okay if it’s removed?”

Daichi silently responded by ripping the shirt off and throwing it to some location on the other side of the room. Suga’s breath caught, appreciating Daichi’s physique. Of course, he wasn’t as muscular as he used to be, Bokuto now surpassed him in size but he was (thankfully) still defined. Daichi groaned again when Suga ran his hands up and down Daichi’s chest, splaying his fingers and feeling every facet and groove. He tensed as Suga’s cold fingers sent sensations throughout Daichi wherever they touched on his heated chest. Eventually he couldn’t take it anymore and he pushed himself up to recapture Suga’s lips in a rough kiss. Daichi tangled his fingers in Suga’s hair, pulling at the locks, bringing them close enough so there were barely millimeters between them. Suga’s hands were leaving Daichi’s chest, beginning to unbutton his own shirt when the universe decided to finally make it’s cruel move on Daichi’s otherwise unhindered, dream-worthy evening. The fire alarm went off.

Daichi pulled away from Suga, ready to scream. Suga sighed, loud and tortured, before he rolled off of Daichi to collect his shirt from where it was happily lying on the floor, minding it’s own business. Unlike whatever piece of shit adolescent shit bag (the second shit was for emphasis, Daichi was not happy) decided to set his hotel on fire in the middle of the night. He made a mental note to find and kill this person later. He hastily threw on his shirt, sending one last longing glance at Suga, who was standing by the door waiting for him.

This was a mistake because Suga looked like he needed to be kissed right now. By Daichi. Fire alarm be damned. His lips were swollen, almost red and his hair was a rumpled mess where Daichi had run his fingers through it. It took a sudden burst of will and the constant reminder that the hotel he had been working to have since he was six was danger of burning to the ground to get him out the door without ravaging Suga on the way.

He cursed quite a bit and pulled Suga by the hand to the nearest fire exit, where most of his friends were now gathered, apparently just returning from planetarium night. They took one look at Daichi and Suga, in their various levels of disarray and suddenly all had an identical shit-eating grin on their faces. Before they had the chance to say anything Daichi gently turned to face Suga and searched his eyes, seeing a similar tortured look there.

“Suga.”

Suga smiled softly, “Yes, Daichi?”

“That was amazing.”

The smile turned mischievous, “It was, wasn’t it?” 

“I have to go take some names and kick some asses now, but I’m going to come find you and we’re going to talk about this, okay?”

Suga nodded and leaned close to Daichi, caressing his face with the back of one hand then brushing his lips in the same place. He lingered there for a second, whispering into Daichi’s ear like he did the night they played King’s Cup, “We’re going to do a lot more than talk about it, Daichi.”

Daichi took a moment to put his hand on the spot, still tingling, where Suga’s face had brushed his and Suga smiled at him radiantly before going over to begin damage control with his friends.

He walked to the front of the hotel in a daze that turned into a rage as soon as he saw a small orange-haired figure, soot smudged across his entire face and mingled into his hair, gesturing madly at the nearest firefighter. His much angrier and taller counterpart was nowhere to be seen. Daichi waited for the firefighter to walk away then stormed up to Hinata, “What the hell did you do?”

Hinata winced at the harsh tone but Daichi couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment. He waited for Hinata’s answer.

The boy was as loud as ever but there was a new shaky quality to his voice, “W-well Daichi-san, Kageyama and I were,” he had the decency to look sheepish, “well, we were fighting, and I called him a popcorn kernel and then I had a sudden craving for popcorn,” his voice became more frazzled as he continued, “But I couldn’t find any microwave popcorn so I used that Whirlypop thing Asahi got to make it on the stove but then I left and forgot about it and then there was a fire and I didn’t know what to do, and Kageyama he,” tears collected in Hinata’s eyes, “He-”

Daichi steadied Hinata’s shaking frame, anchoring him, “Hinata, where’s Kageyama?”

Hinata started crying, Daichi didn’t do well with tears, he usually started crying himself. So to avoid being turned into sniveling mess in front of a lot of people he didn’t know, he shook Hinata, trying to bring what little sense he had back to him, “Hinata, what happened.”

It was not a question, it a was stern demand that Hinata answered immediately, “He got burned Daichi. He got burned and it’s all my fault.”

Hinata finally broke down, falling into Daichi and wrapping his arms around him in a crushing hug. Daichi’s heart went out to the little guy so he returned the hug, patting him soothingly on the back until he calmed down, “It’s not your fault, it could’ve happened to anyone,” that wasn’t entirely true but Hinata didn’t need to feel any worse than he already did.

Hinata hiccuped more apologies at Daichi that he waved off, searching for the ambulance that held Kageyama. It was directly in the line of sight of Hinata, an advantage the bandaged Kageyama was taking. His intense gaze was practically burning holes into the back of Hinata’s head. Daichi remembered a similar look Kageyama had given Kenma that still had him running in the opposite direction every time he saw Kageyama. Daichi made sure Hinata was stable enough to handle himself before making his way over to where Kageyama was seated.

He sat next to him and held up his own bandaged hand, “I guess we’re injury buddies now.”

Kageyama burst into a long string of apologies and explanations similar to Hinata’s, punctuated by him saying, “That fucking bitch bucket must hate me,” he ground a hand into his cheek, “I distracted him and it’s all my fault.”

Daichi could laugh at the situation. He didn’t, but he could’ve, “Funny thing, Hinata said the same thing not thirty seconds ago.”

Kageyama’s face was a mix of surprise and unbridled rage. Daichi absent-mindedly wondered if there was a sensitive way to tell someone that they desperately needed to take a few hundred anger management classes. “ _ Why? _ The dumb ass should know it’s not his fault.”

The paramedic came to tell Daichi they would be taking Kageyama to the hospital to treat the burns so he hopped off the back of the truck and beckoned to Hinata, who was hovering from a distance. He very obviously avoided Kageyama’s gaze when he reached them. Kageyama was looking pointedly at his hand, covered in water gel bandages. 

Daichi rolled his eyes, they were both very large imbeciles, not even he himself was this incompetent. He hoped, “Okay, both of you listen,” they snapped to attention, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, I’m not very happy with either of you,” They drooped like scolded puppy dogs, it made Daichi’s heart hurt a little, “So this angst? Figure it out before I come to my senses and fire you both.”

The ambulance departed as soon as Daichi was done scolding, both of the arsonists trapped together in the back, where they would either sort out their feelings or, quite possibly, start another fire.

*****

Daichi returned to the employee wing after engaging in an act of hotel damage control he should really win an award for. A long line of disgruntled guests demanding complimentary booze (which he happily granted them) and some very strongly worded rants on hotel expectations that he not so happily listened to, expertly calming everyone and gaining three large wedding bookings along the way. All in a day’s work.

He almost trudged straight back to his room to sleep for the next four days but he was stopped by Kuroo and Kenma’s open door (if the cats were out, he would make it his one job to find them and crush them, cuteness be damned) where he saw a whole gaggle of boisterous, large people seated around a table. They seemed to be playing a card game and from the looks of animosity being thrown around, Oikawa was winning. He considered walking past, but he spotted a head of perfectly silky (he now knew for a fact) silvery-gray locks seated amongst the ruffians. He entered at his own risk.

Noya was the first to notice, everyone else was too concentrated on the game in front of them, trying to defeat the annoyingly good Oikawa, “DAICHI, HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED. Give me all the deets.”

The spell around the table was broken and Daichi was the center of attention, they all wanted the latest piece of hotel gossip. Daichi told the story hurriedly, more interested in continuing his “talk” with Suga. Asahi looked worried enough about his kitchen to be physically sick, but the rest of them seemed very uninterested in the state of Daichi’s hotel. They wanted to know more about Hinata and Kageyama.

Oikawa interrupted Daichi when he heard about Kageyama’s burn, “Oo, was it on his face?? Like over his eye?” 

Daichi was suspicious of Oikawa’s specificity, “Um, no? It’s on his hand, left just like mine.”

Suga interjected from the back, “Aww, injury buddies!”  _ Great minds think alike _ , Daichi contemplated.

Oikawa looked exceptionally disappointed, “That’s such a shame, he would’ve made a great Zuko.”

Everyone, excluding Asahi, Suga and Daichi, made small noises of disappointment and shook their heads in agreement with Oikawa’s comment. Daichi was glad he knew that if Kageyama had been actually hurt, they would all be at the hospital fawning over him like a flock of overprotective mothers, or else he might be worried his friends were a bunch of sociopaths. Of course, there was someone at the table who hadn’t known them long enough to understand this, and Daichi finally took his chance to give his attention to Suga.

“Yes, yes what a terrible shame, but while you guys are being a bunch of heartless pricks, I’m going to steal Suga away from you for a moment.”

Looks varying from minor shame to great offense turned to scoffs of indignation. Kuroo voiced all their thoughts, “You can’t just _ leave _ in the middle of a hand.”

Noya slammed his hand down on the table, causing Asahi to clutch at his heart, “It’s sacrilege.”

Suga neatly placed his cards on the table, “No, it’s okay guys, I was never getting into my foot anyway.”

Suga pushed away from the table and started walking towards the door. Daichi followed him after returning Oikawa’s stink eye.

When he reached the hallway, Suga was leaning against a wall, looking extremely content. Daichi couldn’t help but he drawn in by him, he placed a hand on the wall behind Suga and leaned close enough so that he could feel the electricity between them. He was breathless, drunk in Suga, and he wasn’t even touching him.

“Can I see you next week?” Suga’s big doe eyes met his and a hand reached up to cup the back of Daichi’s neck. The fingers of Suga’s hand threaded into the short hairs on the back of Daichi’s head, running back and forth in a ridiculously provoking manner. Daichi gripped Suga’s hips and pulled him forward for another kiss. Suga’s other hand now gripped at Daichi’s bicep, his thumb rubbing over the various plains and valleys of his musculature.

  
  


This kiss was different from their first. It was like an unspoken conversation between them. It spoke of longing, excitement and something deeper that Daichi couldn’t quite put his finger. And then it was over, too soon Suga was pulling away, out of breath and pink-cheeked. 

Daichi was shaking, he felt like he could fly, “So, can I take that as a yes?”

Suga puffed out a laugh, “Same time, same place?”

“Saturday at seven?”

Suga pulled his face down in a mock frown, “Oh no, that’s no good for me. I’m gonna be seeing this one stud muffin, does eight work for you?”

Daichi mimicked his expression, “Damn, that won’t work, I think I’m still going to be out with this amazing guy.”

Suga tutted, “Such a shame, such a shame.”

They said their goodbyes, Suga re-entering to take his spot back up at the table and Daichi moving to his door to catch up on some well-earned sleep. But before he could open the door, Sga popped his head around the corner, flustered, “So I’m gonna see you Saturday at seven, right?”

Daichi felt ready to spontaneously combust, Suga’s perfection factor continued to climb, “Can’t wait.”

Literal rays of sunshine. Suga’s smile could probably power the entire eastern seaboard.

  
It was that thought that eventually lolled Daichi into a deep sleep, dominated by dreams of Suga. 


	7. Peasant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots more angst and snuggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!!! Sorry for the late upload but to make up for it, I'm going to upload the next chapter this Saturday! Also there may be a small surprise if I finish it in time :). As always, thanks so many to my betas, the wonderful Lachesis and the always delightful [phantomofsam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomofsam) and THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR COMMENTING YOU'RE AMAZING!! Please enjoy guys! HAPPY 4TH TO THOSE WHOM IT MAY APPLY!

Oikawa had decided that since Daichi would not be attending planetarium night for the second week in a row, they would be “pre-gaming” in his rooms. Daichi was not particularly happy with this arrangement. Fortunately, he was not the only one to be a victim of Oikawa’s rage because Asahi had to work late in the kitchen (which Daichi assumed he himself could be blamed for, but Asahi asked for the extra shift), so Asahi and Noya would not be attending either. Oikawa had been livid, but instead of going on a passive aggressive rampage, as per usual, he was being sickly sweet to Asahi. Which was, in its own way, a more stressful kind of torture. Asahi could be seen, whenever he could find a moment to do so, looking at his reflection in whatever surface he could to check for white hairs. Oikawa has most definitely done this on purpose, the sadist.

Now they were all sitting in a strained silence, brought about by Daichi’s suggestion they should play the Quiet Game after they’d spent half an hour practically screaming about having nothing to do. It was a foolproof move really, one Daichi’s used since elementary school when Kuroo and Oikawa were fighting in class and Daichi didn’t want to get in trouble with the teacher. He was glad birds of a feather flock together because all of their new friends (Kenma excluded, but he was quiet anyway) had the the same competitive spirit that inspired the outspoken, loud individuals to shut right the fuck up. 

The basic rules were whoever had the urge to speak, laugh or even sneeze first had to do something decided by the entire group. When they were younger, they would do immature things like make Daichi go down to this nice old lady’s house, knock on the door and scream ‘penis’ at her, or, later when they were all old enough to go out and drink, make out with random strangers (usually that was just Oikawa trying to torture Iwaizumi. Usually this backfired and he ended up torturing himself when Iwaizumi released all of his pent up sexual frustration for the night on another person). Now that they were all settling into their more adult lives, the dares were turning domestic. Bokuto had lost the last three times, and everytime they’d make him clean someone’s apartment. It was Kuroo and Kenma’s turn, and Kuroo wanted someone else to deal with the cat hair that snuck its way into every crevice of the apartment. So he was dangling haphazardly off of one of Daichi’s large armchairs (which Daichi refrained from reminding him still had yet to be paid for) doing everything in his power to break Bokuto. However, Bokuto had planned on this happening and was engaging in a silent conversation with Akaashi. Not an innuendo, just a conversation. 

It was an action that had always intrigued Daichi, especially because of how vocal Bokuto usually was. But they could speak just through eye contact and facial expressions. Everyone had found something productive to do, taking advantage of the rare silences between them all. That was another rule, you were allowed to do anything while being quiet (it seemed like a crutch, but usually anyone who started doing something else forgot the game was going on and ended up losing). Iwaizumi was probably making the best of the time by working on earning his nursing license, completely engrossed in his computer. Kenma had moved his console to Daichi’s TV and was now kicking Oikawa’s ass at some first person shooter that had just come out. Oikawa still looked bored and kept glancing Daichi’s way. Daichi thought he looked a bit constipated every time he did, he considered losing the game just to tell Oikawa how stupid he looked.

Oikawa threw (in the lightest sense of the word) the controller onto the ground with a huff, “I’ll clean the den of cat despair, I just can’t take it any longer.”

Daichi glared disapprovingly at Oikawa, for destroying his silence, “Couldn’t take what?”   
  


“Did you bangy?”

Kuroo sat up in his seat in record time, “Oooo, yes Daichi date night, do tell.”

And to think Daichi had spent an entire week skillfully pointing conversations in the complete opposite direction of his romantic exploits, only to have his own plans foiled by allowing his friends’ minds to roam free. He frantically searched his mind for a way to avoid the topic. Talking about his dirty deeds always left him an embarrassed flubbering mess for a couple hours, and he was supposed to be meeting Suga soon, who’d already seen him in various states of complete disarray. And god damn it, the night with Suga (although short) was one of Daichi’s best. If life really did flash before your eyes before you die, he hoped it would be able to see that night on repeat. The only mature option he could come up with was to completely ignore them, observing the Stucco texture on the ceiling instead, humming the notes to a song a piano player had performed that day. He had recognized it as a song his mother sang to him a lot when he was younger, something about bells and birds and till there was you. Incidentally, it got him thinking of Suga. Suga’s smile, Suga’s laugh, Suga’s eyes, mouth, lips… his entire being. Yes, Suga was turning out be an excellent distraction. Daichi heard himself audibly sigh when he remembered the way Suga’s lips had pushed so perfectly against his with a hot hunger. How his body had basically crushed him against the door with need, with a force that Daichi wouldn’t have ever guessed the light, airy man was capable of. He indulged himself in his reverie, hoping to successfully block out the ever vexing voices around him.

It didn’t work.

“OH shit wait are we interrogating Daichi about his love life? Because yes.” Bokuto Bokuto’d.

Daichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Yes, and if he believes he can ignore us long enough for us to lose interest then he has another thing coming,” an Oikawa-sized pressure placed itself dexterously on Daichi’s armrest.

A similar pressure invaded the other one, followed by a surprising voice, “He should know I still haven’t given up on J.K. Rowling admitting Fred’s death was an April Fool’s joke.”

Daichi opened his eyes long enough to glare up at Akaashi, his usual ally, who was leaning over him with a laughing glint in his eyes, “Traitor.”

There was the sound of something large thumping onto the ground from the couch, “Keiji, why must you do this, right when my heart manages to forget the immense pain that was Fred’s death, you have to remind me of it.”

“Never forget Bokuto. Never surrender.”

“Surrender to what, Keiji?”

“The absurd reality where that plot point is valid.” Akaashi placed a hand on Bokuto’s head, flattening his updo. “I reject your reality and substitute my own.”

Bokuto tackled Akaashi in a bear hug, pinning Daichi under him on the chair, “You’re so strong Keiji, I love you so much.”

Akaashi patted Bokuto’s head, “Love you too, Bo.”

There was a resounding chorus of ‘aws’ (even from Kenma) before Daichi had the breath knocked out of him by the rest of the company jumping onto him in a giant dog pile (excluding Kenma). He knew this definitely wasn’t good for the chair when it groaned under all the weight. He thought he could he faint sounds of the wooden skeleton bending and cracking.

“Get off of my chair,” he was flopping about like a fish out of water and his words sounded more like a plea than he was intending. He hoped he was the only one who heard it.

From the way Kuroo was looking at him, he knew he wasn’t so lucky, “Tell us about your hot date.”

Daichi wanted to rip that stupid fucking grin off Kuroo’s stupid fucking face. His poor tortured furniture did not deserve this. For its sake he finally gave in, slumping back against the chair, giving himself room to take a breath, “We kissed.”

Every single one of their faces turned to look at him, contorting their bodies to get a good look at his face. Bokuto had his turned back as far as it could go, making him look extra owlish.

“Like, more than a goodbye peck?”

Daichi nodded.

“Hands?”

He felt a blush creep its way up the back of his neck.

The monotone, quiet voice that belonged to Kenma, “Tongue?”

Daichi gulped.

Suddenly a literal weight was lifted off of him and he was being pulled up into a bone-crushing group hug. His friends squealed like young girls at a slumber party, talking about the people they liked. Hopping up and down included.

The blush now covered his entire face. His friends spent the next hour and a half interrogating him on the quality of his night out with Suga and after he kicked them out unceremoniously, they continued to talk about it on their way out his door and down the hallway. He felt they should be disappointed the best gossip they had for the week was his chaste (compared to what he wanted to do) night out with Suga. But maybe that just meant they were all getting older, which wasn’t so terrible. Or their home lives were suffering significant drama withdrawal. Also not a bad thing, Daichi thought, remembering all the nights one of them had come to his door, crying after being kicked out for the umpteenth time. He was actually starting to miss being woken up in the wee hours of the morn to a migraine-inducing story of what latest scheme had gotten one of his friends into the dog house.

Just remembering was causing the muscles in his back and neck to tense, a reflex apparently. He fell back onto the couch behind him with a huff, sinking into the cushions. Cushions where he had been with Suga. He smiled giddily at the memory, his heart beat wildly. His mind replayed the short rendezvous they had indulged in before Hinata and Kageyama unwittingly absolutely fucked him over. An intense feeling of longing and need hit him suddenly like the broad side of an 18-wheeler, knocked him completely on his ass. He almost burst out laughing when his body responded to Suga the same way his mind did. Daichi was stupefied, reminded once again how the mere thought of Suga had the power to do this to him. It was a terrifying realization. He brought his hands up to rub circles into his temples. He still barely knew the guy, had only been on one official date with him and he could imagine his entire life playing out with him. He saw the white picket fence, the dog, maybe a couple kids (Daichi was impartial really, but if Suga wanted them). He saw Suga as his home. All he wanted was to bask in Suga. He sounded like one of his mom’s Soaps, but he also realized he was past caring at this point. 

Daichi moved his hands behind his head and propped it up so he had a better angle to stare at patterns in the ceiling, instead of count the seconds until he could see Suga again. Tonight was going to be a great night.

\---------------

_ It’s a bad day _ . The words still echoed in his head from the short phone conversation with his grandmother. Bad day. Those two words shouldn’t have the power to make him hurt this way. Why did he feel so still feel so afraid and powerless every time. He should be stronger, he knew, because he wasn’t the only one suffering and his grandfather… His grandfather couldn’t even remember his own name some days but whenever he walked into that room on a “bad day” he felt like a weak child, so ready to hold on and never let go but incapable of it. Impotent.

It was the same five years ago when they found out he had the disease. The big AD. Alzheimer’s. Suga and his grandmother’s world had fallen apart at the seams. For an entire week they walked around in a state of disbelief until his grandfather had forced them to go out and smell the roses, “If it’s my time then I’ll go,” he had said, “But until that day, you both had better make every day count because if you don’t, I’ll go find someone who will at least show me a good time, unlike you mopey wrecks.” 

It was rare for his grandfather to say something so blunt (that was his grandma’s job), so they heeded his words. They had had time to cope and learn, to know what was ahead of them. They went to help sessions, talked to the doctor, got books. They knew every way to make his remaining time easier for him and them. But when Suga’s grandfather had finally passed from the moderate to severe stage of the disease, Suga suddenly realized how real it all was. He put his entire business on hold indefinitely just to spend every second he had left with the man he aspired to be. The man who, on bad days, barely functioned as a human being. It scared the shit out of him.

Suga curled his hands around the steering wheel in front of him until his knuckles were stark white. He’d been sitting in the parking lot for who knows how long, mentally preparing himself for the roller coaster of emotions ahead of him. 

He wanted to curl up into a ball in his grandpa’s lap and let him soothe away the nightmares. He wanted to run away to a safe place while his grandfather fought for him the same way he always did. Like when Suga came out and was subsequently kicked out of his house, his grandfather had gone so far as to disown his own son. He always stood up for Suga when he was too small to fight his own battles. But he wasn’t a child anymore and it was Suga’s turn to be strong and step up to the front lines. He was ready to be the support his small, loving family needed. The support they deserved. 

But there was something he needed to take care of something first. Suga loosened his grip and pulled out his phone, clicking at the screen until he came to the ‘D’ section of his contacts. He wasn’t quite ready to explain all of this, especially not over the phone, but Daichi deserved at least a cancellation phone call. Suga bit his lip, already regretting every word about to leave his mouth.

\---------------------

Tonight was going to be significantly less great night, Daichi thought as he resituated himself on the couch, flipping his phone closed. To say he had been looking forward to seeing Suga was a dire understatement, and now, only an hour before their planned date, he had cancelled. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed and a little hurt. He didn’t blame Suga, it was his own damn fault he allowed himself to become so attached to the man that being without him left an empty hole behind. Daichi shivered, he probably sounded like a creep.

Even though he wanted to do nothing more than curl up in his big armchair and eat a family-sized tub of ice cream, he had never been one to waste time. So instead, to deal with his very confusing Suga feelings, he pulled out his laptop and turned on the TV. It was still on the console settings from when Kenma was playing so he opened the Netflix tab and flicked over to the Recently Watched section. He clicked on the first episode of Gilmore Girls, a common theme for him when he wanted to get work done and distract himself from dangerous thoughts. He also realized he was hungry so he pulled up his browser and ordered some Chinese food from his favorite place right around the corner.

It was probably habit that had him doing this. When he was a kid and someone in their family was having a hard time, the only cure was a family binge session complete with copious amounts of whatever take-out was most convenient take out food. 

All the emails he had been putting off provided an effective distraction until about two episodes in, when Lorelai casually tossed a, “Hey, what do you think of Luke?” and Daichi’s brain for some reason translated “Luke” to “Suga” and it was now reminding exactly how he felt about him. He closed his laptop, giving up on any semblance of productivity for the rest of the night. 

He was left alone to his thoughts of Suga until a knock at the door forced him to move from the world of daydreams to that of reality. He checked his phone, weird. The delivery guy usually called before arriving, just to make sure he hadn’t become preoccupied with the hotel, as he often did.   
  


“Just a second,” he sprung up from his seat and grabbed the bundle of cash he’d left on the counter. The delivery man did not like to be left waiting, a true master of his trade. He checked to see if he was decent and decided his mysteriously stained sweatpants would have to do. He opened the door, ready to initiate the sacred exchange of money for food but instead of Steve, his favorite angsty, always-in-a-rush delivery boy, he was greeting by a distressingly somber angel, “Wha- Suga?”

Suga attempted what looked like a smile but his bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were rimmed and red and puffy, like he’d been crying.

Daichi mind snapped from thoughts of bafflement and stern offense to concern and a need to hurt whoever made Suga look like this, “Suga, what’s wrong?” he placed a tentative hand on Suga’s shoulder and Suga leaned into it,  “Did something happen?”

Tears threatened to fall down Suga’s face, and the small defeated smile on his face made Daichi’s heart ache. Suga’s voice was quiet and weak, reaffirming Daichi’s belief that Suga had just been crying, “Can I come in?”

Daichi moved aside to let Suga enter, which he did, a little timidly as if he was about to unveil some great personal secret. Daichi closed the door and approached him like an injured bird, afraid he might crumble to dust if he touched him. He remained still, standing about four feet behind Suga, who was standing frighteningly still and staring at the wall in front of him. They remained like this for what seemed like an eternity and the distance between them started to feel like an entire universe. Then he heard Suga take a shaky breath followed by a gut-wrenching sob and Daichi crossed the distance in less than a second, spinning Suga around to pull him into an embrace.

Daichi held him close, and Suga’s hands balled in his shirt while he cried softly into the crook of his neck. Daichi felt his shirt and skin get wet with tears so he just held him tighter. It felt like Suga could fall apart in Daichi’s arms. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to know so much so that he could find whatever it was and fix it. He wanted to remove it from the face of the Earth so Suga would never have to cry ever again. But he wasn’t sure if Suga was ready to tell him. He’d been so secretive over the phone that Daichi didn’t know if Suga would ever tell him. But no matter how much that hurt (more than Daichi cared to admit), it was okay. It was okay as long as Suga knew Daichi would be there to pick up the pieces and put him back together until he was whole again.

He didn’t know how to put this thought into words so he just lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on Suga’s cold temple. He remained there until Suga’s tears diminished to sniffles and he began to pull away a bit. Daichi loosened his grip enough so they could look each other in the eye.

“Suga, are you okay?”

Suga looked like he was about to plaster on the fake smile again, tell Daichi everything was okay and no, that is not a giant elephant in the room, but at the last moment he must of changed his mind because he just said, “I don’t think I am, Daichi.”

After he said it, his eyes widened like he was also hearing this tidbit for the first time. Daichi wondered if Suga had ever allowed himself to examine his own feelings and see how he felt about whatever was going on. He hadn’t even realized how much it was hurting him. Daichi’s heart shattered into a million pieces, “Suga, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But I just need you to understand, I will be here. Every hour, every second of every day. For whatever you need,” Daichi rubbed his thumb in circles where it rested on Suga’s back in a comforting gesture, “If you just need someone to sit with, or someone to yell at. Someone to cuddle with,” Daichi realized he was rambling but he couldn’t stop himself, “I am not  _ wholly _ opposed to copious amounts of cuddling.”

Suga chuckled and wiped his eyes, clearing them of some of the salt left there, “No it’s okay, I think,” Suga bit his bottom lip, Daichi was going to sue him, “I think I need to talk about it now. I’ve kept it in for so long but, I think it’s important to let it out, if you’re willing to listen.

Daichi had actually never been more willing to do anything, so he sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him, since this seemed like the kind of problem that required an in depth monologue to explain. Monologues were always easier sitting, in Daichi’s unprofessional opinion.

Suga sat with a huff, and pulled his legs up underneath him so he could face Daichi, who was sitting cross-legged, facing him. Suga took a deep breath, “I don’t really know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning,” Daichi suggested.

Suga nodded, “Okay well, I hope you’re prepared for a late night.”

“Always.”

Suga started at what he saw as the beginning of it all, he told Daichi. Apparently he had grown up in a bad household, he had been an only child of a rich businessman and his trophy wife. And that’s all he ever saw them as. His birth mother was about as motherly as a black bear (who abandoned their child, deciding it’s not worth raising one cub), and left them when Suga was about three for the next highest bidder. His father was left to do most the child-rearing. Suga was raised to fear and hate anyone who didn’t look or act like how he was supposed to. When they went out in public he was shuttered away from the other children in fear that he would be “corrupted”. Luckily, having a successful single parent meant most of the time he was left to a nanny. A nice girl who took pity on Suga’s situation and took every opportunity she could to teach Suga the importance of treating all people fairly, like a friend, no matter where they came from or where they were going. Even the ones like his father who didn’t understand this concept should be treated nicely, because change is only reached through compassion. She took him to parks, cafes, anywhere he could meet the vast ocean of unique personas waiting to be found. Really she was more of a parent than anyone in his life had ever been.

But as soon as his father learned of the outings, she was thrown out unceremoniously and Suga had to fend for himself until he was seven. His dad brought home a lady with long black hair and honey skin and to Suga, she looked like an angel. And for six months that’s what she was. She brought Suga presents, laughed at his jokes and smiled. She even got his dad to play with him. He thought his life was changed for good when she finally joined their family legally. Mr. Sugawara had found himself a new wife and she saw Suga as an obstacle to his father’s money. He became a nuisance. So naturally, an alternative method of care had to be found because Suga’s dad would always choose the twig bimbo over his own son. His dad even went so far as to contact his own parents, who he didn’t even send an obligatory Christmas card to.

The first day Suga’s father dropped him off at the large home that doubled as their Wedding Studio, he walked in with a heavy heart. He had spent the night before crying quietly in his room, unsure of what exactly he had done to make his father hate him. He always did what he told, acted proper and said “Yes, sir”, “Right away, sir.” So why was he being shoved off to these people he’d never even seen in his life? It must be because he was worthless (Daichi’s hands were clenched at his sides by this time, ready to do something to prove to Suga he was anything but worthless, but Suga looked nowhere near finished so he caged the feelings fighting to burst out).

During the entire explanation of his childhood, Suga’s face was cold and blank, like reciting some event from an old history textbook. But as soon as he began talking about his grandparents, his face lit up and he began talking with his hands, waving them this way and that. So cute. Too cute. Daichi was spontaneously combusting.

“I was so scared, Daichi. Like,” he widened his eyes for emphasis, “ _ So _ scared. Because I mean, I was seven, and my grandpa isn’t small and my grandma is, but she just, she gives off this  _ presence _ . Everyone who meets her is terrified of her, and I was fighting my dad who was just pushing me into the house but I wouldn’t let go if his hand,” A peaceful expression landed on Suga’s face, “But then my grandma,” he smiled at the memory, “She just leaned down and said, ‘It’s okay pumpkin, I don’t bite,’ and I was in her arms,” his smile turned wry, “I learned later the biting thing was a lie, she most definitely  _ does _ bite. It’s  _ painful _ , too. And her bark isn’t much better. One time a bigger kid pushed me on the ground and she went  _ apeshit _ on him. She got animal control called on her.”

Daichi felt a warm laugh bubble forth, he could almost see a young Suga, trying to explain to authorities that no, it was not a wild dog that attacked the kid but his grandmother. He definitely would’ve pulled some cute baby Suga smile and the authorities would have left on his grandmother’s side. Suga laughed with Daichi but when it died down, a sad smile was left behind.

“And my grandpa,” he sighed, “My grandpa is my hero. He wasn’t outspoken, kind of shy and reserved,” he chuckled a little, “We used to tease him endlessly and he’d get all flustered, just like Asahi does sometimes. But when I needed him, he was there. He’s the kind of guy you feel compelled to tell all your problems, and you know he’ll be listening the whole time, ready to give you advice, help, whatever you need.”

Suga stopped abruptly and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t talk for another few moments. When he finally did, his voice had become thicker, like he was working around a lump in his throat, “And everything seemed to get better after that. I would spend the day with my grandparents, being myself so that when I got home I could be the child my father would want,” Suga’s voice was bitter, “But it wasn’t until I got to middle school that he actually started paying attention to me. I brought home my first report card, straight A’s. He rewarded me with a pat on the head. Then I got involved in school clubs. I won an academic award and I got a hug. When I got into one of the best schools in the prefecture I got an, ‘I love you’,” he shook his head, “God, I was so naive. I believed him.”

“When I was fourteen I made my first real friend. He was the ace in volleyball club and I was the only one who wanted to be setter so we started spending a lot of time together. About a year later, I started having strange feelings for my friend. I wanted to kiss him, and hold hands like him like they did in the movies my grandparents watched with me. But my father had raised me to believe having those kinds of feelings for other boys was wrong. Disgusting. So I stopped talking to the boy. I started looking up solutions online and they all said it was something I was born with, something that would never change. I thought I was diseased.”

Amazingly, Suga was holding it all together. If this had been Daichi’s past, he wouldn’t be sure how he would get through everyday, being as open, flirtatious and as genuinely good as Suga was. He reminded himself how blessed he was to have a family that accepted him. Daichi couldn’t see how Suga’s story could get worse.

“Then, on the last day of volleyball club, before we would be going on to different high schools. He took me into the equipment room and kissed me. It was the first time I felt like myself. It was just a little kiss, then he ran away and I actually never saw him again. But it was everything to me. I knew there was no way what I was feeling could be wrong. I was so happy, so excited. So naturally I ran home to my grandparents and I told them. They weren’t surprised. And they loved me, and accepted me. They were excited for me, having finally declared a big part of my life. So I thought, ‘If my grandparents can still love me, why not my own father?’ After all I did come from his loins and he tells me he loves me, so it has to be true, right?”

Daichi had a strong sense he knew where this was going.

“It wasn’t until I was 16 that I finally got up the guts to do it. It was late one night and it was,” he looked down and played with a frayed string on his pant leg, “Ugly. He yelled a lot, I cowered. Then he kicked me out. He didn’t even let me get my things. Just shoved me out the door and locked it behind me. I didn’t know what to do. I went to my grandparent’s house. They listened to my story then fell asleep with me on the pullout couch. They invited me to live with them. So I did. But the next day, my father” Suga spat the word, “came to their house, demanding to see me so he could send me to some camp that was meant to ‘fix’ me. I’ve never seen my grandfather angry before. And I never want to again. He emanated this  _ energy _ that made even my grandmother look like a scared kitten. He just grabbed my father by the collar and lifted him. Daichi,  _ lifted him _ with one arm so they were face to face. He said, ‘He’s not broken,’ then tossed him down and ran him off the property.”

Daichi wasn’t sure which of Suga’s grandparents were more badass.

“I’m telling this so you can understand just how important these two people are to me. They are my only family. I would give my life for them. My grandmother always has my back and my grandfather will always be there to protect me. At least, that’s what I believed.”

Suga’s voice cracked on the last syllable. Daichi couldn’t contain his impulses so he reached forward gently to take Suga’s hands from where they were still worrying over his pants and pulled them into his, so Suga would know he was listening. Suga took a few breaths before continuing, threading his fingers with Daichi’s. 

“He has Alzheimer’s. That’s why I came here, because it’s getting worse and I need to be here for him,” he looked at Daichi now, he looked lost and anguished, “He’s always been there, Daichi.”

For the first time since he’d started his story, Suga cried. It starts as slow trickle and turns into a torrential downpour. Daichi didn’t know what else to do so he pulled Suga onto his lap so he could card his hands through his hair and make sure Suga knew he was there. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t know what to say because he knew nothing would make Suga feel better. It was a wound that could only be healed with time and support. Daichi had plenty of both. 

Daichi held him while he wept, loudly now. Suga had his hands on Daichi’s chest, like he was making sure he hadn’t disappeared, Daichi tried to keep his breathing even to calm Suga, even if he was on the verge of tears himself. Suga’s sobs eventually died down to whimpers, then hiccups, “Thank you, for listening. I feel a lot better now, actually.”

Daichi still had nothing to say. So he took a deep breath to say nothing, because what else could he do? When the sound of the doorbell echoed through the apartment, causing them both to jump.

_ Fucking prick packer, the chinese food. _

At least the powers above had gifted him with something to say, “How do you feel about sweet and sour chicken?”

“How does the queen feel about corgis?”

“Strongly?”

“Very strongly.”

Daichi carefully picked Suga up from his lap and deposited him on the middle kitchen so he could pay the strangely late delivery man and bestow a gift of fatty heart attack chicken to the sad boy in the next room.

He brought in a large bag of his various favorites to place on the coffee table and found Suga, chuckling lightly at the screen. It was a freeze-frame of Lorelei sassing someone, probably.

“Daichi, is this Gilmore Girls?”

“Uuuh,” Daichi strongly considered coming up with some manly alternative that would somehow convince Suga. There were none, “Yes?”

“I feel the need to inform you, that like italian food, you also contain multitudes.”

The tips of Daichi’s ears felt hot because, at least in his book, being compared to food was high compliment. He still blamed Asahi.

“Would you… Like to watch it with me?”  _ Pleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayyespleasesayye- _

“I would love to watch Gilmore Girls with you.”  _ YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES. _

He knew Suga would be the one to call home about. Daichi sat on the corner seat to Suga’s left and pressed play from exactly where he was. They quickly devoured a majority of the food. About three episodes in (for which Daichi sat rigidly in his seat, unsure of what to do) while Suga quipped about the characters, relaxing easily. Suga yawned and scooted down the couch so he could lay his head in Daichi’s lap. Daichi went completely still. Suga turned so he was looking up at Daichi.

“Daichi, we were making out yesterday. You’re allowed to touch me.”

Blood shot to his face and he cleared his throat while “casually” leaning back and placing a hand of Suga’s shoulder. It remained there for about another half an episode until Suga’s breathing eventually evened out, indicating he was asleep. Daichi felt his body relax and before he could even comprehend what was happening, his hand was brushing through Suga’s hair. It was so fine and soft, unlike Daichi’s own thick locks that turned wild if he allowed them to grow out any longer than it was now. He was amazed how Suga’s hair was able to look effortless and light no matter what Daichi did to it. He even (very carefully, as not to wake Suga) ruffled it around to try and give him a bedhead but the result did something to Daichi’s body that made him immediately smooth it back down. Crisis averted.

Suga groaned a little and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shivering. Daichi’s eyes moved from Suga’s sleeping, disturbed form to a pile of blankets nestled next to the television.

Daichi shook Suga gently, “Hey, hey Suga,” Suga grunted, Daichi shook harder, “Suuugaaaaa.”

“Nooooooooo,” Suga’s voice was gravelly and whiney. It reminded him of Oikawa but it was admittedly cuter when it was Suga.

Daichi chuckled, “Suga, you need to move so I can get us a blanket.”

Suga lifted his head, which Daichi thought was a good sign before he realized Suga was just repositioning himself to lean on Daichi’s side (okay so it wasn’t a  _ bad _ sign exactly, but definitely not the sign he was looking for).

“But it’s comfy here,” he stressed his point by sighing contently.

“It’s also very cold,” Daichi gently lifted Suga and made his way to the blankets, “Snuggles are always better served warm.”

“Ah yes, I forgot, you’re the snuggle expert.”

“I prefer the term ‘Snuggle King’,” Daichi searched the pile for his fluffiest blanket, it was brown and made out of some kind of material that was what he believed a cloud to feel like. He usually hid it somewhere at the bottom because it was also known for disappearing and showing up in other people’s apartments.

“No, see that won’t work,” Daichi turned around, mouth open and ready to ask why exactly he couldn’t be the Snuggle King, “Because you’re the Snuggle Princess.”

He walked right into it. Like a deer. But at least he found the blanket, it’s important to appreciate the small victories. He smiled and draped the blanket around him like a cape.

“Yes peasant, you’re right,” he sniffed royally at the air, “Feel free to bask in my glow.”

“Wait, but peasants can’t snuggle with the royal family, it’s blasphemous.”

Daichi flopped down onto the couch, putting his legs behind Suga’s back so he could lay comfortably. He patted the part of couch next to him (he had finally found a reason for owning a couch that could fit four sleeping persons comfortably), “Yeah, but you’re a cute peasant.”

Suga tutted, “That’s so fucked up Daichi,” despite his opinions on the situation, Suga stretched out next to Daichi, tangling their legs together, facing towards Daichi to avoid the light that was blaring from the television.

“Do you mind if I keep watching?” he always slept better with something on in the background, an easy distraction from the thoughts that always seemed to come crowding around his head at the worst times.

Suga just nodded and yawned again, “You’re an addict.”

“Yeah but at least I’m happy about it.”

  
Suga breathed out a laugh and they fell into a silence, feeling every movement of their bodies. Daichi eventually stopped watching the TV in exchange for watching Suga sleep (again, when had he taken up creepy practices?). However, watching Suga calmed him. Watching his chest rise and fall and his mouth huff out little breaths that were almost snores, but too quiet to hear unless you were really listening for them. His eyes began to droop and he fell into a heavy sleep, holding Suga close in his arms, Suga draped across him and the blanket tangled on top of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you tons for reading!! If you want to discuss the boys or really anything, [here](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr.


	8. Let us Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of catching up with everyone because they've been needing some love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS I KNOW ITS SUNDAY NOT SATURDAY IM SO SORRY. But i had some issues thinking of what to say at one part and I basically stared at a single sentence for three days. But I did upload the surprise yesterday which is THIS IS NOW A SERIES! There's a TsukkiYama one shot there already and I have TONS of plans for it in the future. Anyway, here's this! Thanks to Lachesis and phantomofsam for betaing, I have so many nice words for them but I'm kind of rushing to get this posted!

Daichi was having what probably qualified as the best dream of all time. It started off like any other, him waking up ready to start his day (his subconscious wasn’t the most creative of things normally) but instead of opening his eyes to a room that was so empty it was almost clinical, it looked warm, inviting. And to his delight, there was a peacefully resting Suga right by his side. The rest of the dream was flashes of him, and the different lives they could have together. They had a house where they could entertain large groups of people (a necessity in Daichi’s life) and a menagerie of animals (all of which Suga hd rescued from one place or another). Or they were roughing it, running from ‘the man’, the entire world against them but having each other’s backs. There was even a well-crafted death scene he almost thought was real until he remembered Suga’s mole was on his right side, not the left (Suga also did not have a large tattoo that wrapped around his back, from his shoulder to the divot of his hip, Daichi would definitely be missing that in the morning). Also, to both his relief and disappointment, even his unconscious mind had enough respect for Suga to keep from picturing him naked doing very,  _ very _ inappropriate things. That didn’t stop it, however, from reminding Daichi exactly how much he wanted to see Suga engaged in such activities. It was both a blessing and a curse when he was rudely awakened by the sound of his front door opening right before dream stripper Suga gave him a very private and a very exotic dance. 

His mind slowly awakened to his surroundings. There was a shuffling by the door then the sound of some not-so-soft footsteps in his direction. The first thing he truly became aware of was his right arm, which was free from the warmth of the couch and wrapped around Suga. Suga who was now cuddled up to his side seeking heat, having  kicked the blanket completely off of them at some point in the night. Sleeping Daichi had allowed him, thankfully. He wasn’t quite ready to give up his few stolen moments of innocent intimacy with the literal man of dreams so Daichi pulled Suga closer, closed his eyes tighter and made an enormous effort to ignore the door slammer who had now made himself at home in Daichi’s armchair, from the sound of things. Maybe if he stayed very still and wished extremely hard the presence would make itself scarce.

“Well, well, well,” the very unwelcome voice of Kuroo Tetsurou started, “Good morning you precious little tubes of cute.”

Daichi groaned, “Why are you speaking. Why can’t you just let me lay in my home for once in silence.”

“Well I wasn’t just going to sit here and watch you sleep if that’s what you mean.”

Daichi reluctantly opened his eyes, greeted by Kuroo’s smug face, “I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Daichi said, gesturing to Suga, still sound asleep.

“Yes and I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” he didn’t look sorry in the slightest, “But we have a bit of an emergency.”

Daichi stiffened and sat up a little, jostling Suga who grunted, “What kind of emergency?”

There were three different levels of emergency. The first and least harmful to his long term plan consisted of customer complaints of a serious manner, which were quickly dealt with professionally and usually left him with a new guest guarantee for life. The second dealt with security and he rarely was involved with these situations, Kenma preferring to handle them solo for ultimate discretion. Def con 1 had only occurred once, after their online booking system had shut down on the same day of a large business convention they housed every other year. If it was either of the first two, he could usually hand it off to Kuroo or Oikawa, but the third required his immediate attention. He prayed for the former option.

From the look on Kuroo’s face, his prayers had been in vain, “The wedding we’re hosting this weekend just upped its party size, by about 200, and if we don’t accommodate them they’ll pull the entire event.”

“Did you get Oikawa to talk to them?”

Kuroo nodded gravely, “They weren’t impressed.”

Daichi sighed, causing a tuft of Suga’s hair to change direction and distracting him for a good minute and a half.

“Uh, earth to Daichi?”

He tore his eyes away from Suga, finally deciding this was an issue he would have to take care of now, “We’ll talk in the kitchen, just give me a second.”

Kuroo followed without protest, strange for him but possibly just an ode to how serious this situation actually was. Come to think of it, there was something significantly off with his best friend. The usual grin on his face was devoid of sass and didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked dull, washed-out and tired. Daichi felt a familiar pang of a repressed memory rearing its head, the expression Kuroo had now was similar to the one Daichi saw and heard in his voice for the portion of Kuroo’s life when he and Kenma had ‘taken a break’.

Daichi shook Suga lightly on the shoulder to wake him, so he could move out from underneath him. Suga woke with a groan and rubbed his eyes, yawning. 

Daichi felt fuzzy, “Good morning.” 

Suga turned bleary eyes to look up at Daichi, he smiled, “Oh, morning” he looked around the room, realizing where he was, “You know this is starting to become a habit of mine.”

“A good one, or a bad one?”

Suga leaned back into Daichi, “A good one, I think.”

Daichi’s breath caught in his throat. There was no way he was going to be able to keep up that conversation with Kuroo waiting in the next room, “I have to get up but you can stay if you want, let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Suga nodded and lifted himself up enough to let Daichi squeeze through before flopping back down on the couch. Daichi placed the abandoned blanket on top of him to make up for the loss of his body heat and headed into the kitchen to confront his day. 

Kuroo informed him that the clients, two spoiled rich boys with too much time on their hands and too much of their daddy's money to spend, had “forgotten” to invite distant relatives but had caught the error just in time to make everyone else’s life a living hell. It would require at least 50 already booked rooms and for Daichi to up security, a standard for large events like this. 

They were discussing possible fixes that left everyone happy, even the guests possibly being kicked out for the weekend when Kuroo interrupted his own stream of thought with a statement that seemed oddly out of place, “Good God Daichi, do you see this man?” Kuroo was gesturing with his coffee cup at the door behind Daichi.

Daichi swivelled to see what exactly Kuroo was talking about. It was Suga, wrapped up like a mobile burrito in the big fluffy blanket. Daichi didn’t deserve this. He’d always followed the rules,  been as straight as an arrow (in at least one sense), he worked hard to get the best out of life for himself, but Suga was too good for him. It was the only thought in his mind as he watched the burrito-man trudge to his side and gently steal his coffee cup right out of his hand. He must have taken Daichi’s lack of protest as an invitation to it because he brought it to his lips and took a sip from it. Daichi couldn’t help feel anything but amusement and affection.

“Would you like a cup of your own?”

Suga nodded but continued to drink from Daichi’s cup until the latter filled a new cup and reclaimed his own, also filling it to the brim. He settled himself against the counter next to Suga and turned to readdress Kuroo, “So what do you think the best option is right now? You’re the one who’s dealt with them the most.”

Kuroo looked from Daichi to Suga, “We’re gonna talk about this fucking adorable new morning routine of yours later, mister, don’t think you’ve escaped me.”

They were going to talk about many things later, Daichi was sure, including the vaguely monotone way in which Kuroo delivered what was meant to be a teasing comment. He just wasn’t into it. Usually when Kuroo talked, he made eye contact, he leaned in and spoke with his whole body. The differences in his stature were minute but grossly apparent to Daichi. He was trying to hide something and Daichi would find out what it was.

“But I honestly have no diddly darn clue what to do. They’re like fire and rain, these two. One day I’m the best friend and the next they treat me like their worst enemy.”

What a pickle. Daichi was a leader and a strong point to build from, a good foundation for anything he was needed for. He got along well with others, his only real nemeses were good deals on food that was terrible for him and Stuart the Ice Machine but he wasn’t a  _ people _ person. He could make someone be honest with him with one stern look but he couldn’t read into a person like Kuroo and Kenma. He couldn’t walk into a room and immediately have everyone in it around his finger like Oikawa. And he definitely didn’t handle spouses-to-be well. At all. The only reason he’d opened up the hotel as a venue for any wedding needs was because Iwaizumi had convinced him of the positive effects it would have on their ledgers and Oikawa had promised to handle most of the business. If his two most trusted managers were unable to fix this, he severely doubted his ability to. He took a large gulp from his coffee, hoping the caffeine would somehow calm the headache starting to take shape.

“What’s the problem, exactly?,” Suga’s voice was devoid of the raspy, sleepy quality it had earlier. Daichi noticed there was still a slight puffiness rimming his eyes, the only thing pointing to what a mess he had been the night before. It made him wonder how often Suga really had to put on a optimistic face for everyone when he was drowning. Suga was stronger than he gave himself credit for.

Daichi quickly explained, Kuroo nodding and interjecting wherever Daichi’s information was lacking. By the time they had explained the entire situation, instead of looking defeated, like his two companions, Suga looked exhilarated, practically buzzing.

“I can help,” Like really, vibrating like a kid hyped up on a bunch of those packets of just straight sugar that you dipped a stick made out of sugar into.

Kuroo looked skeptical, “While I admire your enthusiasm, I’m afraid if I introduce you to these people, you might never be happy again.”

“No really, I’m a wedding planner who’s been off the job for weeks. I  _ crave _ these kinds of clients. They make it interesting,” so not only was Suga a wedding planner, he was a downright masochistic one to boot. But there was something about the look in his eye. Like he didn’t just think he could win these guys over, he believed it with every fiber in his being. Suga could be Daichi’s only chance. And he wasn’t exactly opposed to seeing Suga in his work element either.

Daichi set his coffee down on the counter, “Okay, you can take a shot at it but we need to head down in about fifteen,” he said, glancing at the clock, “Can you be ready by then?”

Suga made a noise somewhere between a giggle and a snort, “Oh please, Daichi, you’re speaking to a professional speed dresser here.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows furrowed together, “How did you come across this profession? Was there an ad in the papers? Did you go to trade school for this?”

Suga put his hands on his hips and stood up straight, looking dignified, a very interesting look while wrapped up in a blanket, “It’s an acquired skill from years of being a chronic late sleeper,” he placed his cup next to Daichi’s on the counter, “I’ll be back in a jif!”

With that he was gone, leaving an amused Daichi and Kuroo looking after him. They fell into a silence, which wouldn’t have been uncomfortable if it were with anyone but Kuroo, who spent every moment he could teasing Daichi about something or the other. Daichi was  _ severely _ worried.

“Kuroo, what’s wrong?”

Kuroo head snapped to look at Daichi from where it had been morosely looking absolutely nothing. He plastered some bullshit look on his face, “Just thinking about how a mess like you scored a sassy, genuine human being like Suga.”

He was trying to distract Daichi from the point. Something he hadn’t done… actually something he’d never done. No matter what, even when they’d been ‘rivals’ of sorts, had Kuroo tried to  _ hide _ something from Daichi. He was brutally honest, almost as much as Kenma and it was something Daichi loved about him. It was nice to have someone around you didn’t have to question or doubt. Someone who told you every little thing, even the things friends really shouldn’t know about each other. Kuroo told him the second he thought he had feeling about Kenma, he told him about all the fights he’d had with his mother when she’d divorced his father and he was the only person Daichi made a conscious effort to avoid when a new movie came out because Kuroo would spoil it for sure. So what was so important he couldn’t even tell Daichi about it?

“Kuroo,” time for boss voice 2.0, “What the hell is going on.”

Kuroo deflated a bit, “I don’t know Daichi. I really don’t.”

Kuroo never just ‘didn’t know’. Those were alarming words coming from him. He always had some idea of what was going on, always keenly observant almost to an annoying level.  Daichi opened his mouth to say more but was caught off guard by a very dapper Suga entering the room. He was wearing the same pale gray suit he’d had on the first day Daichi saw him but this time he wore a light pink shirt underneath it. On anyone else the colors would have washed them out but on Suga it just looked fresh, calming. It had that effect on both Daichi and Kuroo, who stared at him for a few moments before remembering they had a crisis to advert downstairs.

Suga broke the silence, speaking in a way that had Daichi thinking he knew just exactly how tense of a situation he had walked in on, “Well, shall we?”

Kuroo smiled again and motioned for them to leave, “We shall.”

They all exited shoulder to shoulder, Suga in the middle, the united front against overdramatic fiancees.

Kuroo had not done these two justice. Not only were they the two most self-involved people he’d ever met (and let’s remember, he lives next to Oikawa), they were rude and snobbish to boot. At least Oikawa was a decent person and had at least one insecurity. These two thought they were God’s gift to the universe. Daichi was not a fan.

The first thing they did when he walked up to introduce himself after waiting for a half hour past their appointment was blame him for their tardiness. Apparently the alarm clock in their room beeped at the wrong frequency and somehow he should have foreseen this day when he invested in them two years ago. But he was a professional. So he professionally gave them both a stern smile before turning them over to Suga, God’s  _ actual _ gift to the universe.

It was amazing to watch him work. The second introductions were over, Suga was in his element. When talking to Suga their attitudes took a 180 degree turn . Even pathetic excuses for human beings were unable to resist the clean charm Suga had. They even smiled and laughed at every appropriate moment. A meeting Daichi was sure would take all day only took an hour and he didn’t have to move anyone out of the rooms they’d booked months prior because Suga had convinced the couple to book the golf course for a starry night campout. He’d told them the stars would make it all worth it. The cost of the golf course alone would keep Daichi’s books in the green for months, not including the tennis lessons the couple had booked for every member of the wedding party for an impromptu tournament before the honeymoon. By the end of it all, they’d fired their previous wedding planner (a lady who was actually very kind, but looked relieved to be free of that hell) and offered Suga the job, which he declined with a sad smile but he swore up and down he would be there to help if they needed anything leading up to the big date.

These people, who had at first reminded him of an alligator hopped up on cocaine (something you’d never want to be around), were now as calm and docile as that same alligator with a certain affinity for one Mary Jane. It was truly and unequivocally the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. It is also important to note that Daichi is very biased.

As soon as they’d averted that crisis, Daichi got back to work dealing with all the things Kuroo had had to put on hold for the morning. Basically he had a shit ton of walking around to do checking in with all the guests. Fortunately he had a guest of his own; Suga had declared since Daichi got to see him at work, it was now his turn. Daichi warned him how boring it was but didn’t protest past that, not entirely unopposed to having Suga near him for longer. Heavens above, he was a lucky man.

He took Suga through his hourly runs of schmoozing with the fabulously rich tenants and daily checks with Kenma on the happenings of the day. Daichi was surprised to see Kenma being even more withdrawn than usual. He didn’t open the door when Daichi knocked, just waved him off through the window panel in the door. Daichi would’ve protested if it were anyone but Kenma, but he could be in the middle of any number of things Daichi didn’t want to be interrupting, for the good of the hotel. They moved from there to the tennis courts, where Tanaka and Noya were being battered by tennis rackets and wrestling several small children (some larger than Noya) to the ground. He turned around when he saw this, not ready to face whatever debacle had started this fight.

Suga fell into step next to him, “So, if we were Daichi, where would we go next?”

Daichi let their shoulders brush together, probably a bad idea in his work environment, “Well seeing as one of us is Daichi, I think I can safely say first we would stop by the kitchen to make sure everything is going according to schedule for the event tonight.”

“And what event would that be?”

“A bunch of fancy man dressed up in fancy suits and eat fancy food.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It would seem that way,” they continued to laugh and banter back and forth all the way to the kitchen. They opened the swinging doors to find Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. They jumped away from each other and both looked like puppies who’d been trusted to be left home alone only to pee over every surface their little puppy legs could reach.

Daichi put on his best boss voice, “What did you do,” he said it so it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Tsukishima snickered, which was confusing to Daichi because when he did something wrong, the blonde surprisingly usually fessed up to it, taking responsibility and apologizing. Now he was treating whatever it was as a joke. 

He was even more surprised when Yamaguchi grabbed Tsukishima by the hand and pulled him past Daichi, “Oh, it's nothing, Daichi-San don't worry about it, everything is a-o-k.”

Daichi was a bit flabbergasted to be honest. His finely honed tone of commanding apparently no longer had an effect on his employees. Had he gone soft? Had he always been soft? Was his entire identity a lie?

“You’ve been holding out on me, Captain,” Daichi had almost forgotten Suga was next to him in the midst of his identity crisis.

“What?”

“Your boss voice, Daichi. How long have you had that in your reserves?”

At least someone appreciated all his hard work, “As long as people have been around to need it.”

Suga bumped shoulders with him playfully, “What a good samaritan.”

“I am a man of the people.”

Suga gifted him a smile that almost made Daichi forget about what had just transpired between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. Almost.

“Anyway, what was that all about back there,” Daichi asked, gesturing back to the coffee machine where the two had just been standing.

Suga shrugged, “I’m not sure, how long have they been together?”

Daichi coughed to hold back a bark of laughter, “Who? Yamaguchi and Tsukishima?,” Daichi shook his head, “No, they’re just friends.”

Suga didn’t look convinced, “They’d make a cute couple, then.”

Daichi was about to disagree but then he thought about it. Really thought about it. Was there ever a moment he’d seen one without the other? Tsukishima, rarely, when Kuroo whisked him off to do something or the other since Kuroo had decided Tsukishima would inherit his job when he moved on in life but the only time they looked happy. Truly happy. Was when they were together. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched. Maybe the time they spent whispering between each other meant something more. Or the the longing glances sent back and forth. Or the moments they spent alone, escaping the eyes of their coworkers and-- Oh my god they  _ were  _ a thing.   

They walked into the main kitchen where Asahi was running worriedly to and fro, stirring this dish and adding seasoning to another. Oikawa, Bokuto and Kuroo were gathered around, watching him like a pack of lions waiting for their next meal.

“Guys, stop bothering Asahi, he’s gonna have an aneurism,” Daichi said this but as he did, he joined them, waiting. Asahi was a professional, but he was also a sucker and if he was pestered for long enough, he would feed you. Even Daichi couldn’t resist the delectable morsels Asahi seemed to procure straight out of this air.

Asahi stopped dead in his tracks and gave Daichi a terrified look, “No, not you too. I can’t take this pressure, Daichi. They’ve been sitting here all day and I have a critic from a very dignified magazine coming out tomorrow and I’m behind on the course plan for the event and I’m just really freaking out. Why must you all torment me.”

It was easy to tell when Asahi was really stressed because instead of backing down and running around with his tail between his legs, he lashed out a bit. It was exciting and instead of getting them to back off, they goaded him even further.

“But how am I supposed to survive without you Asahi. I’m practically starving here,” Bokuto looked like it too, he was almost drooling.

Oikawa rested a hand on his chin, “Yeah, you worry too much Bun Boy.”

Asahi pointed a food-covered spatula in their direction, “No, I worry  _ exactly  _ the right amount.”

He turned and furiously stirred some kind of sauce that smelled so good, Daichi’s knees were weak.

“I’m really not feeding you guys this time.”

They all whined at him for a few more moments, even Suga was drawn in by the siren song of Asahi’s food but when Asahi turned back to face them, he looked as livid as Asahi could and shooed them all out with a ladle.

Bokuto fell against the dining room wall where they were banished, “But I’m so  _ hungry _ .”

Kuroo crossed his arms, “Bo, aren’t you and Akaashi going out tonight anyway? You don’t want to spoil your supper.”

Bokuto mumbled what sounded like, “You’re not my mom.”

Bokuto threw a hand to his face in a very ‘woe is me’ gesture, “But I’m  _ dying _ .”

Daichi heard Suga chuckle and looked over to see him rustling around in his coat pocket. With an ‘aha!’ he pulled out an energy bar and handed it to Bokuto. He took it like it was the only food he’d seen in weeks and looked like he was about to cry before pulling Suga into one of his bone crushing hugs. 

“You are a saint, Sugawara Koushi,” he pulled away and looked meaningfully into Suga’s eyes, “I worship you.”

“You worship everyone,” Akaashi had suddenly appeared behind Bokuto, who turned around quickly to peck him on the cheek and hug him.

“Yes but I worship you the mostest.”

Akaashi patted Bokuto on the cheek then turned to everyone else, “Well, we have to be going, but please enjoy your time salivating outside the kitchen waiting for Asahi to take pity on you.

Oikawa pouted, “Hey, your boyfriend is the one who was salivating.”

Akaashi led Bokuto away and called out over his shoulder, “I don’t doubt it.”

Kuroo sighed and walked away as well, “I’ve got to be going too, there’s,” there was a very pregnant pause in his sentence, “something I have to take care of.”

This left Oikawa, Daichi and Suga standing alone in the corridor.

Daichi turned to Suga, a sudden idea springing into his mind, “Want to have dinner at my place tonight?”

Suga waggled his eyebrows, “Are you trying to ‘wine and dine’ me, Sawamura Daichi?”

Daichi’s cheeks got warm, “Um… yes?”

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Oh yeah, no don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine here alone, foodless.”

Daichi took a page from Akaashi’s book and took Suga’s hand, “Okay, have fun!”

He saw Oikawa roll his eyes before he turned away and pulled Suga in the opposite direction.

“So what are we going to eat?”

Daichi stopped dead in his tracks. When was the last time he’d actually bought food? A week ago? Two weeks?

“Uh, how do coffee beans sound?”

Suga giggled, “Well I was hoping for something a little more substantial.”

Daichi pulled them back towards Oikawa, “We must away to the grocery store then.”

  
Suga sped up his pace so he was walking in time with Daichi, hand in hand, “Well then,  let us away!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to talk or have any requests or anything really, my tumblr is [](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/)


	9. Heart-Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to call this a renaissance chapter, a little bit of everything! We got ourselves some SMUT, some fluff and what is proably copious amounts of angst. I'm sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOO AGAIN! It's been 3 weeks but it's also a pretty long chapter and there are a lot of parts I didn't want to rush! Thanks so much to Lachesis for betaing this chapter AND THATNK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMENTS I LOVE TALKING TO FOLKS WHO ARE AS HOPELESSLY LOST IN THIS FANDOM AS I AM! If you're not into smutty things stop reading right after the finger incident and ctrl+f to "Waking up the next morning". You won't missing anything important plot wise, I promise! Please enjoy guys!

After a ridiculously efficient trip to the grocery store (Suga had made an extensive list of supplies they would need before leaving and kept his eyes on the prize the entire time, not even letting Daichi stop and peruse the “As Seen On TV” shelf), they were now taking the elevator up to Daichi’s room. Both had ruled out the stairs as a viable option, laden with enough food to last Daichi a month. Even walking from the store back to the hotel had seemed like a chore, both had stripped off their blazers and undone their ties and shirts, rolling their sleeves up to the elbow. They now both stood in the middle of the elevator, not touching but close enough for it to feel that way, joking about Daichi’s inability to care for himself.

When the elevator finally dinged on his floor, he gestured for Suga to exit before him and was just about to continue explaining to him how living off of take out and the occasional Eggo was a healthy and viable lifestyle choice when a very irate voice cut through the silence of the hallway (since a majority of the staff was still hard at work).

“God damn it! Hinata I can open the stupid fucking door by myself,” Kageyama and Hinata were at their door down the hallway, wrestling for control over the handle.

Daichi stepped out of the elevator and stopped right outside of it, sighing. This should be good.

“Just- let me help you,” Hinata panted out, both hands on the handle, feet planted shoulder-width apart as he pulled on it.

“Just let me open the door by myself, dumbass!” Kageyama sounded significantly less tired out and only had one hand on the door, trying to push it open.

“LET ME LOVE YOU,” Hinata practically screamed, startling Suga next to Daichi. Daichi silently snickered next to him, Suga jabbed him as best he could with his elbow. Daichi could see his arm flex and was distracted with the muscles there until Kageyama chose to respond to Hinata.

“NO,” he yelled as he heaved against the door, earning him a few inches of entrance. In what seemed like instinct, he reached his left hand (the injured one) through the crack in the door to try and get him in the room and stop Hinata from pulling. But the smaller man, who had his eyes screwed shut from the effort of pulling, did not see the hand placed on the side of the door and pulled even harder, slamming the door shut on Kageyama’s injured hand. Daichi dropped his bags and ran to Kageyama’s side, but didn’t touch him, wanting to be clear of the blast zone if he chose to erupt. Hinata looked absolutely mortified and had retreated to the opposite side of the door, hovering between the choices of running or checking on Kageyama.

“B-babe, I’m so sorry. You know how sorry I am, right? Please don’t hate me, are you okay?” Hinata babbled on, looking absolutely terrified.

To his credit, Kageyama had been able to hold back his outburst of pain to silently seething with his head against the doorframe. Daichi thought he was ignoring Hinata and was going to say something but then Kageyama took a deep breath and turned to face Hinata, holding up his injured hand. The look on his face sent Hinata skittering back a few steps.

“What just happened was kind of the worst case scenario, right?” His voice reached a level of monotone that sent shivers up even Daichi’s spine. Hinata shook his head up and down rather violently, “Then why don’t you chill out, and let me handle the things I can handle on my own, okay?”

Hinata looked down at his shoes and gave a small nod. Kageyama exhaled and opened the door without protest this time, then he turned and acknowledged Daichi and Suga before going into his room, Hinata trailing behind.

After the door closed, Suga turned to Daichi, “Should I be worried?”

Daichi shook his head, “They love fighting,” Suga looked thoroughly confused, “It’s their aesthetic.”

Suga’s expression ranged from somewhere between understanding and exasperated. Daichi opened his door and stood aside to let Suga in first. Instead, Suga took the door and gestured Daichi to enter first, a sly look in his eye. Daichi walked in, suspiciously. After he heard the door close behind him, he turned his head behind him to ask Suga why exactly it was so important for him to enter first only to find Suga staring pointedly at his backside.

“Suga, are you checking out my ass?” He turned completely to face Suga, removing the aforementioned spectacle from Suga’s view, who pouted for a moment before blushing slightly, realizing he had been caught.

Suga shrugged, “An ass like that shouldn’t be hidden from the world, it’s meant to be viewed.”

Daichi placed his hands on his hips and tried to look offended, “Well I certainly feel objectified.”

Suga dropped the bags in his hands and crossed the room to Daichi, “Aw, but the boy the ass it attached to is pretty cute, too.”

Daichi grinned, “I am pretty cute.”

Suga snickered, “Yes you are, princess.”

With that, Suga took the bags out of Daichi’s hands and pulled him in for a kiss. Daichi grabbed hold of Suga’s hips, with a sort of hidden desperation he hadn’t even realized he was feeling. Suga responded with a similar fervor, tangling his fingers in Daichi’s hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Daichi chastised himself for letting it grow long enough for this to happen, because  _ wow _ the sensation of Suga’s fingers running through the short locks was doing things to him he couldn’t quite explain. The kiss itself was short and sweet, and in actuality, it probably only lasted a few seconds before Suga broke away with a strange expression on his face, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. A very long, satisfying lifetime. Suga sighed.

“I guess we should probably start on dinner, hm?”

Daichi let Suga pull away and take some bags into the kitchen, but he remained perplexed by the look on Suga’s face. He looked almost guilty and Daichi found himself remembering their conversation the night before. Daichi took the remaining bags and followed Suga. Suga was facing away from Daichi, hands on the counter in clenched fists. Daichi set the bags down on the counter and crossed the distance between them, turning Suga around and pulling him into a hug.

He didn’t really consider the fact that Suga might not want a hug, but it was the only way Daichi could think to ground him, to let him know that what he’d said the night before was true, he’d be there no matter what. Luckily, Suga hugged him back, fiercely, almost so hard Daichi couldn’t breath. He once again found himself surprised by the strength Suga had, a habit he should probably break.

Daichi asked the only question that mattered, “What’s wrong?”

Daichi felt Suga nestle into his shoulder, “Why do I feel happy? How do I have the ability to feel happy when-,” Suga’s breath caught, “When my grandfather’s body is slowly destroying itself and my entire life is falling apart?”

Daichi pressed a kiss to the space where Suga’s shoulder met his neck, comforting and gathering his thoughts to try and bring some kind of peace to Suga’s mind while he continued to explain his feelings.

“I mean, I’m not exactly happy. I hurt so bad, just getting up in the morning can be a pain most times. But when I met you,” Daichi’s shirt grew tight where Suga’s fists were clenched in it, “It felt like I could escape into a world where I could be happy, if even for a moment. And for the first time in a long time I felt like maybe, I deserved a little happiness. There has to be something wrong with me, right? What’s wrong with me?

“There is nothing wrong with you for wanting some kind of happiness when everything in your life seems to be going wrong.”

Suga pulled away, about to say something but Daichi held a hand up to stop him, “No, I’m not finished. Just give me a second, please?,” Suga nodded after a moment of shocked hesitation, “I know a lot of really  _ really _ terrible stuff is happening to you right now. And because of that, it feels like you need to be sad. And if you're not sad, you’re wrong, right?”

Suga’s hands had moved up to grip the front of Daichi’s shirt, his eyes were watering when he nodded to affirm Daichi’s words.

“That’s bullshit, Suga,” Suga sniffed, Daichi hurried to continue to make sure his words weren’t misconstrued, “It is never,  _ ever _ wrong to feel good. And when I’m around you, I feel something I’ve never felt before in my life, but it feels good Suga, really good. And I think you feel it too. And I just don’t see anyway this feeling could be wrong. Right?”

Daichi internally winced at his inarticulate words, but stood strong externally to prove his point to Suga. Suga finally breathed and nodded, a small smile on his face.

Daichi realized how strongly he’d been gripping Suga’s shoulders and finally let go. He offered a napkin to Suga so he could wipe his face, “Thank you, Daichi. For listening.”

“Always, Suga.”

They wordlessly moved to start unpacking the bags. But like all of their silences, it felt natural. Almost like they were speaking without saying anything. Daichi started on cooking the rice while Suga chopped up vegetables. Eventually the silence turned into small talk, then stories about their childhood, Daichi’s older sisters and Suga’s life after moving in with his grandparents. Who sounded amazing, in Daichi’s opinion. 

Without thinking he said, “I’d love to meet them sometime.”

As soon as the words left his mouth he spun around, to gauge Suga’s reaction, which was a smile, “I’d like for that to happen.”

Daichi turned back to the steamer, trying to hide his blush. He started in on the story of how his sisters were the ones to first get him to watch Gilmore Girls, by piling on top of him on the couch for twelve hours until he finally relented, agreeing to voluntarily watch the show. Suga laughed so hard he almost cried, keeling over and grasping the counter for support. A motion Daichi mirrored when his knees almost gave out at the sight of Suga’s smile. As soon as Suga recovered enough to speak without gasping in between words, he started in on his own story of how his grandfather (who was deathly afraid of insects, apparently) had attempted to de-spider their crawl space, much to the amusement of Suga and his grandmother. He was explaining the manner in which his grandfather had ran out of the house screaming, when his story was cut short by a hissing inhale and a small ‘ow’. Daichi turned quickly to see what was wrong.

Suga was facing away from Daichi, inspecting something on the cutting board in front of him.

“What happened? Daichi hurried over to Suga’s side.

Suga sighed and showed his hand to Daichi, a thin line of blood running down it from a cut at the top of his index finger, “I should have warned you, I’m hopeless in the kitchen.”

Daichi smiled, after inspecting the cut and deciding it was nothing to worry about, “That’s adorable.”

Suga blushed like he couldn’t quite believe anyone would think anything he did was adorable. It was a crime, really, how little Suga thought of himself when he had single-handedly become the largest part of Daichi’s life in less than a month. Daichi reached up for the first aid kit he kept in one of the cupboards and placed Suga’s finger in his mouth, sucking on it to get rid of the blood. Which definitely wasn’t sanitary, but something he did out of habit, a childhood quirk he’d never really gotten over. Also never something he’d done to another person. It was probably not the best idea, considering how aroused he had become the moment Suga’s finger passed his lips. Judging from the expression on Suga’s face, however, the feeling was mutual and Daichi was overcome with a desire so powerful he thought it might consume him.

Daichi removed Suga’s finger from his lips but held it in his hand while he let his eyes wander Suga’s face, jumping to and fro, stalling on his beauty mark and resting on his eyes, asking a question. Suga’s eyes were dilated, their usual warm chocolate over overtaken by a back desire Daichi understood wholeheartedly. Daichi was opening his mouth, going through the motions of saying something even though he had no clue what to say, when Suga’s lips covered his own. Daichi felt Suga’s tongue skid across his lip before it delved deeper, exploring. Daichi inhaled before returning Suga’s fervor, cupping the back of his neck with his uninjured hand, the other laying limply at his side in a self preservation instinct he was certain he would be losing soon. He felt Suga’s hands travel down his back, circling lower until they reached the top of his ass and cupped it. It was a new sensation, and Daichi pushed himself flush against Suga and groaned, getting lost in the feeling of it. 

Eventually his desire beat out his common sense and he used both hands to grab Suga by the shoulders and push him against the counter, getting the traction he needed to grind against him, relishing their closeness. Now it was Suga’s turn to gasp, he arched into Daichi’s touch and Daichi took the opportunity to latch on to Suga’s exposed neck, keeping a rhythm by switching between sucking and biting a spot into the skin there. He could feel the vibrations of the noises Suga was making, feel the strain of muscle with every labored breath and he let it feed him, spur him on.

He became so distracted by the way Suga reacted to him that he barely even noticed Suga’s hand leaving it’s sturdy position on his ass until he felt it reach between them and tease around the waistband of his pants and expertly undo the belt holding them up. Daichi’s mouth stuttered when his pants fell from his hips, exposing his boxer briefs (the most flattering pair he owned because past Daichi did love him) which were already slick with precum, his boner almost embarrassingly apparent. 

He moaned when Suga moved his hand to palm him through the boxers, “S-Suga, are you sure?”

Suga reclaimed Daichi’s lips in his, at the same time moving Daichi’s boxers aside so that he could make skin-on-skin contact, trailing his fingers along Daichi’s shaft. Daichi felt his cock jump and his breathing stutter out of rhythm. 

Suga’s voice was soft yet determined in his ear, “I seem pretty sure, don’t you think?”

Daichi met Suga’s eyes again, still the same dark shade but filled with a kind of clarity, telling Daichi he knew what he wanted. There were going to be no regrets. 

Suga’s grip tightened its hold and started stroking him, slow and steady, stopping every now and then to thumb at Daichi’s slit. Daichi braced his hands on the counter behind Suga, unsure if his knees would be able to hold him up much longer. Daichi resisted the urge to move, willing his hips to stay still, to not become over-zealous. He was almost lost, eyes going in and out of focus before Suga grounded him with a kiss. The sensation of Suga surrounded him, every place they touched was heat and every moment they breathed the same air was bliss. Eventually he lost all semblance of self control and his body started thrusting jerkily into Suga’s hand. But he wasn’t ready yet, not when Suga was still standing there, sporting a rather painful looking bulge of his own. Gently, he pushed Suga’s hands away, he pulled his body back into a state of control and started unbuttoning the dress shirt already in a wrinkled state on Suga’s chest.

In one motion (Daichi was impressed with his own ability to hold both him and Suga up for even a moment) he lifted Suga onto the counter and undid his pants, revealing a mint green pair of briefs. Everything was always refreshing with this man, from his attitude right down to the color of his underwear. Daichi was in heaven.

He wanted to savor every second with him. Daichi started by rubbing circles into Suga’s thighs, slowly moving from his knee to more sensitive areas. Where his hands went, his lips followed, pressing feathery kisses into the soft down hair that covered Suga’s legs. Every time Daichi reached a sensitive area, Suga would grip tight where his hands rested on Daichi’s shoulders and gasp. He was happy to find the moles Suga had could be found here and there up and down Suga’s legs and Daichi was sure to give each and every one special attention. 

“Daichi,” Suga whined.

Daichi stopped what he was doing just long enough to look up at Suga. To take in the whole sight of him, shirt stripped open and hanging loosely off his shoulders, eyes heavy-lidded and face flushed with want. Daichi was shell-shocked it was him who had the honor of seeing Suga like this. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Suga flushed a darker rose shade and brought a hand up to Daichi’s face, “Daichi please,” he licked his lips and Daichi cataloged every second of the movement, “I need you.”

Daichi let his senses overtake him.

He stood up straight, kicked off the pants now bunched around his ankles and fastened Suga’s legs around his waist, carrying them both off to the bedroom. He dumped Suga rather unceremoniously onto the bed in a rush to answer his request, peeling off the underwear still clinging to his body and crawling above Suga to tear his off as well. And what a fucking sight Suga was, scantily clad and spread out in all his wonder for Daichi to worship. Daichi fumbled to undo the buttons on his own shirt, pulling it off and sitting above Suga, straddling his hips. He was overcome with a sudden rush of emotion, inciting him to lean down and kiss a trail starting from the V of his hips up his chest to the curve of his jaw before closing their lips in a passionate kiss. It was all tongue and teeth a little sloppy but speaking volumes of things unsaid between them, feelings and thoughts alike.

Keeping their lips locked, Daichi reached to his bedside cabinet for a small square package and one of the bottles Kuroo bought for him every month, in hopes Daichi might someday use it. Daichi thought he’d never be so glad to see that day come. He slicked his fingers and Suga wrapped his legs around Daichi again to position himself better for what was coming next. Daichi rubbed his lubed fingers around Suga’s entrance, preparing him and acclimating his body to the cold sensation his fingers would bring. Then he slowly, carefully, let one finger penetrate Suga. Daichi and Suga groaned in unison. Suga quickly relaxed and Daichi pushed his finger further, knuckle by knuckle until he was as far into Suga as he could go. He fingered him steadily, learning every angle and searching for the spot that had the potential to make Suga scream. He found it, affirmed by a yell of pleasure from Suga and he added it into his rhythm, hitting it every few strokes. Once Suga was open and willing to the first finger, Daichi slipped a second one in, and Suga thrust into the friction. The eagerness with which Suga met every advance Daichi threw at him had Daichi’s cock throbbing, ready for more.

Daichi returned his attention to Suga’s face, swallowing up Suga’s heavy breaths, licking the salt that had collected on his lips.

When Suga was ready, fumbled around with his unoccupied hand, trying to apply a condom with one hand, eventually succeeding and rolling it down his shaft. Daichi methodically removed his fingers and reclaimed the bottle of lube tangled somewhere in the sheets. The cold, slick contents calmed the heat radiating off of him as he liberally applied it to himself. Suga was still clasped around his hips, making it easy to line them up, his tip teasing around Suga’s entrance in the same way his fingers had. He took a moment to let his mind finally realize that this was actually happening, it wasn’t just some fever dream, before carefully entering Suga. He moaned out Suga’s name as he pushed in deeper, inch by inch until he was swallowed up whole by Suga and they were no longer two separate entities but one being, two halves finally reunited. 

He slowly pulled out, eliciting some kind of hissing groan from Suga, and plunged back in, just focusing on the feeling of Suga around him. Eventually he fell into a slow rhythm, each thrust angled to bring Suga the optimal amount of pleasure and Suga was meeting every motion with one of his own, meeting Daichi halfway on everything. Daichi’s forearms were braced on the bed underneath Suga but his mouth traced lines of sweat around Suga’s shoulders and neck, his one mission being to capture every drop, to remember how Suga tasted, breathing Daichi’s name in pleasure. Which was probably also very kinky but Daichi was learning to embrace himself for who he was. Eventually he felt Suga tense around him and his body reacted as if on cue, his thrusts becoming more erratic until all he saw was white and he heard himself cry out Suga’s name from somewhere else in the room. At the same moment he felt Suga come underneath him, covering both of their stomachs with a warm, sticky substance.

Daichi collapsed on top of Suga, letting his breathing even out before he went to the bathroom to clean himself off. He returned to the bedroom moments later with a bundle of towels and set to work on cleaning off Suga. As soon as it was all done and the towels were properly disposed of into the hamper, Daichi climbed back into bed, returning to the man quickly becoming the singular bright light of his life. He pulled the comforter up to cover their still sweat-covered bodies and wrapped Suga into a tight embrace, “Thank you, Suga.”

Suga nuzzled Daichi’s collarbone, “You’re welcome for what will probably be the best sex of your life.”

“Well someone’s confident.”

Suga yawned, “Not confident, just right.”

Daichi didn’t know how to translate all the things he wanted to say into words. He didn’t know how to say it wasn’t a thank you for sex, it was a thank you for randomly popping up in his life and reminding him how it felt to see every color of the world around him and smile without abandon. A thank you for introducing him to a life he never thought he could take part in. Never having been attracted to someone in a way that made it hard to remember what anything felt like before he met Suga. No, he didn’t have the words to describe it but he hoped the final lazy kiss he gave Suga before they both dozed off, exhausted from the night’s activities, would be enough to get at least a fraction of the tenderness he was nursing in his body and soul through to Suga.

*****

Waking up the next morning, Daichi was filled with an overwhelming feeling of happiness and excitement, which he couldn’t comprehend until Suga rolled towards him and exhaled lightly on his collarbone. Daichi took a moment to appreciate this before peeling his eyes open. One glance at the alarm clock told him it was already 10:00 AM. Luckily, it was yet another day off and it was still a strange feeling to be grateful for the time away from the hotel.

Daichi carefully readjusted his position, Suga’s head slipping from Daichi’s shoulder further down his abdomen. In the night Suga stole all the covers, creating a small cocoon for himself and leaving a meager corner for Daichi. He took the few precious moments he had before Suga woke up to take in what a glorious sight it was. Small rays of sun snuck through the window to color his skin a faint yellow, and his lips were still swollen from where Daichi had bitten them the night before. They moved, murmuring some detached words about his pet liger needing a working permit, which sounded completely reasonable to Daichi. 

Daichi answered softly to himself, filling the silence of the room (he had an almost annoying tendency of talking about everyone and everything in the morning), “Well that’s just ridiculous, we’ll have to look into that right away.”

Daichi jumped when Suga answered him, almost coherently, “See that’s what I told the caterpillar but  _ he  _ said I didn’t have the right paperwork.”

Daichi’s sides hurt from the enormous effort he was making trying not to laugh, for fear of disturbing Suga, “What paperwork would that be?”

“I need the American Constitution, which is impossible because Nick Cage has it and not even Sean Bean could get it from him. But then again that’s probably a bad example because he also couldn’t take the Ring from Frodo. And he got his head chopped off. Incompetent, non-rhyming idiot...”

Suga’s words became more slurred after this point but Daichi was sure he heard something about the parallels between dragons in various fantasy novels and Daichi felt like he could suffice to say Suga was a massive nerd. Eventually Suga’s waking mind took charge and he was scrunching his eyes against the light. He groaned before pulling the covers over his face and scooting closer to Daichi, “Noooo.”

Daichi snickered, “Good morning, beautiful.”

Suga’s voice was muffled under Daichi’s thick down blanket, “It’s time to sleep, not time to talk, Daichi.”

Daichi glanced at the clock again, “Suga, it’s 10:15 A.M.”

“A.M. means ante meridiem, which is Latin for too early to be awake.”

Daichi was pretty sure there was little to no fact in that statement but he was content to sit lazily with Suga until he felt compelled to move forward into their day. Suga’s breathing was just starting to even out when Suga’s phone began ringing. Daichi heard another groan manifest itself from underneath Suga’s blanket, “Tell them I’m currently in the Amazon on a quest.”

“Looking for that paperwork you need for your liger?”

Suga’s breathing stilled and he flipped the blanket off his face to stare Daichi in the eye, like he was suddenly discovering some secret,  “So you were my handsome warrior princess companion?”

Daichi slid down so he was eye-level with Suga, “Well I certainly hope so.”

Suga answered him with a drowsy kiss, which was cut short by the incessant constant ringing of Suga’s phone. Suga pulled away too soon, “We’ll have to put a pin in this for now, only one person would be calling me this early.”

Daichi didn’t remind Suga how  _ not _ early it actually was, instead he appreciated the lean curve of Suga’s spine as he groggily sat up and searched for his phone. When he found it, he wrapped a sheet around his lower half (Daichi may have pouted a little) and went to the hallway to take the call. Daichi stretched, feeling both relaxed and stiff from the night before and set to work cleaning the rest of the mess. He pulled on a clean pair of boxers to protect himself from the chill air of the morning and started to make the bed, minus the sheet Suga was wearing.

It wasn’t long after he’d finished, smoothing the duvet to perfection that Suga reentered, wrapping his arms around Daichi’s middle and smiling against his skin. Daichi wasted no time turning and taking the pin out of their previous engagement. It was only a good morning kiss, but it felt as amazing, if not more, than their first. Suga was again the first to pull away, but this time he left Daichi feeling warm and content.

Suga was biting his lip, almost nervously, “So, what are you doing today?”

The fact that Daichi’s first response was to say ‘you’ told him he should start hanging out with his more respectable friends, friends whose minds could rarely be found in the gutter. Unfortunately, he has none of those. He’ll make some, just so that he can say he does. “Sitting at home, doing nothing, thinking of you.”

Suga pressed another swift kiss to Daichi’s lips, “Well how would you like to meet someone?”

He said it rushed and it took Daichi a few times to comprehend what he’d said.  But when he had, the answer was almost immediate, “I would love to.”

Daichi felt Suga’s arms relax around his torso, not realizing how tightly Suga had been holding on. And it was at this moment Daichi realized who Suga would be so nervous about and Daichi felt his old friend worry settle into his stomach.

*****

Daichi must have been physically shaking. He was brimming with adrenaline and his heart was going a million miles a minute, a testament to how anxious he really was to meet the woman Suga called grandmother. He had been totally unprepared for Suga to offer. It was a huge thing, in Daichi’s opinion, for Suga to let him in this much considering how distant and secretive he’d been at first. It was an honor and a blessing to know Suga liked him enough to introduce him to his family.

They were sitting outside of a small coffee shop not far from the care center where Suga’s grandfather was. Suga had some sweet, cold coffee drink and was licking at a large swirl of whipped cream on top. Every now and then he would get a whiff on his nose that was deftly swept away with his tongue. Daichi stuck to the simplest thing on the menu, pure unadulterated black coffee. The cafe was frequented by people in lilac scrubs and rather weary-looking groups of people. It made sense, the same people were a common sight in his hotel since this care center was one of the biggest names in elderly care in the country. The costs were high and Daichi had no doubts the Sugawaras were putting all of their resources into making their grandfather’s departure a comfortable one.

“So what are you staring at so morosely?”

Daichi turned to look at Suga. He had yet another bit of whipped cream on his face and Daichi used the pad of his thumb to wipe it off, “My sudden future death by heart attack.”

Suga took Daichi’s hand in his and twined their fingers together, “You don’t have to be nervous, I promise. My grandma may give you a hard time but she just wants the best for me.”

“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t think I’m the best for you?”

“Then I will never speak to you again,” Daichi knew it was a joke but he still felt sweat begin to bead his brow and a headache begin to manifest, Suga squeezed his hand, “She’s going to love you, you’re like her dream come true.”

A strong, female voice boomed from behind Daichi, “Which dream are you talking about Koushi, the one where you finally get yourself a decent boyfriend or the one with the tall, dark extremely flexible Russian?”

Daichi jumped to his feet and turned to face who he believed was Suga’s grandma. He was not wrong, “Hello, ma’am, I’m Suga’s friend-”

The woman took Daichi’s outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake, “You mean Suga’s ‘special friend’, sweetheart, it’s okay I see the adoring look in his eyes. You must be Sawamura Daichi, pleasure to meet you.” Suga was still holding his hand, which Daichi guessed was also a pretty good indicator of his friend level with Suga, but he didn’t quite understand how she knew his name. Unless Suga talked about him. Which would be awesome, “I’m Sugawara Bunko, that precious child’s grandmother, it’s very nice to finally meet the man my grandson’s been hiding from me.”

Suga blushed, “Grandmother, please, I wasn’t  _ hiding  _ him.”

Bunko rolled her eyes at Daichi, “He was practically a squirrel in winter.”

“Mindful of his nuts?” They started towards the door of the cafe to have a comfortable place to sit and talk. 

“Yes or in this case, his secret boyfriend.”

Daichi pulled out a chair for Bunko. She and Suga exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter, Daichi was confused, “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“The last person to pull out a chair for my grandmother ended up with a broken toe and a bloody nose.”

Daichi was now terrified. Luckily, Bunko wasn’t going to leave him in the dark, “Well he was also attemepting to steal my purse, if you remember correctly,” she patted Daichi’s shoulder before sitting down in his offered chair, “Daichi here is a doll and would never dream of taking advantage of a poor old woman, right dear?”

Daichi remarked inwardly on Bunko’s depiction of herself as a ‘poor old woman’ but only nodded in response. He took the seat next to Suga and opposite Bunko, “By the way, how did you know my name?”

“‘Tall, strong, handsome with an ass that won’t quit’? Suga didn’t leave much to the imagination while he was raving about you.”

Daichi beamed. He couldn’t help it. It was nice to know the slightly obsessive tendencies were mutual. 

Bunko sipped at the caramel-flavored coffee she’d ordered, “Ah that reminds me,” her face lit up, “When Suga was in high school he used to-”

Suga groaned, “No grandma please, not now.”

She continued, completely ignoring Suga’s interjection, “He used to pretend he was a professional chef on one of those cooking shows and have me record it.”

Daichi thought a professional chef probably wouldn’t slice his finger open so he took it as a personal victory that Suga never followed that dream, “Do you still have them?”

“No, she burned them all in the pits of hell like I asked.”

His grandmother nodded, “Yes,” her smile became sly, “If the pits of hell are located in my bedroom closet, second shelf from the top.”

The morning continued in a similar fashion. Suga’s grandmother filling in Daichi on everything he’d missed the past 20ish years and Suga beet red the entire time while rubbing small nervous circle into Daichi’s hand, which he was holding under the table. The only pauses in the conversation were those they took to finish off their drinks or to check the time, the later action only taken by Bunko. Finally, about two hours into their meeting (Daichi hadn’t realized how time had flown while gaining ammunition to use against Suga if the occasion let itself be known), Bunko put her hands in on the table in a motion of finality and spoke, “He should be awake by now, are you ready to head over?”

Suga’s hand stopped and tensed where they were drawing a lazy pattern into Daichi’s palm. Daichi gave Suga’s hand a reassuring squeeze and waited for him to answer, since he felt he had no jurisdiction in the area of whether Suga was ready or not for what was to come next.

“Only if its a good day, if not I’ll take Daichi home and meet you at the hospital.”

Daichi thought this really wasn’t necessary, he was perfectly capable of making it back to the hotel by himself if it meant less time wasted before Suga could see his grandfather, but he would wait to point this out until he knew what kind of day it was.

Bunko stood and pulled out an adorably old flip phone, “Let me make the call, please excuse me darlings.”

She left the table, leaving Daichi still holding tightly to Suga and Suga looking more or less perturbed.

Daichi lifted their hands on to the table for a more comfortable resting position, “Your grandmother is a gift.”

Suga rolled his eyes, “She’s something that’s for sure.”

“I finally understand where all the sass came from,” this comment was ment with a dubious side-eye from Suga.

“I learn only from the best.”

“So you admit she is the best?”

“She is, isn’t she?” Suga looked at him expectantly, like he was waiting for Daichi’s answer.

“She’s absolutely amazing Suga,” Suga visibly lay back in his chair, relaxing.

“Good, you have no idea how many men I’ve broken up with because they couldn’t deal with my grandma.”

Now Daichi was alarmed, he cleared his throat, “How many men would that be, exactly?”

“More than five and less than twenty.”

Daichi could easily take on twenty guys single-handedly. To reassure himself of this he leaned over Suga to kiss him on the cheek, childishly proud of himself for the blush it left behind. Then subsequently ashamed of himself as Suga’s grandmother reentered the scene at that exact moment.

“I see you two waste no time at all,” she patted Suga on his shoulder, “It’s a good day, honey.”

It was both reassuring and slightly painful to see just how much that statement brightened Suga’s entire demeanor. Painful because it hurt so much to see physical, empirical proof of how much he was actually hurting but reassuring because it was also nice to see how Suga could find happiness in the little things, in the darkest of times.

He jumped up from his seat, pulling Daichi along with him, “Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”

Luckily, to quell Suga’s impatience, they had chosen a coffee shop so near the center because they got there in less than fifteen minutes. The Sugawaras cheerily greeted a pretty dark-haired woman behind the counter who was introduced to him as Shimizu Kiyoko. He stood and waiting at her counter while Suga and his grandmother went to check on his grandpa.

“I don’t know you, but don’t hurt Suga,” Daichi was slightly surprised to hear such a soft-spoken voice come across so blunt. Shimizu was obviously a straight down to business kind of girl, she wasted no time getting to her point.

“You know, everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t think he’d let me hurt him if I was even capable of trying,” and it was true. Suga was one of the strongest people he’d met to date. He’d had plenty of reason in his past to become a completely fucked up person, but instead he didn’t let everything bad that had happened in his life take over, he kept moving forward.

Shimizu nodded stiffly and turned back to whatever she’d been working on before they entered. She obviously wasn’t much for small talk but Daichi didn’t mind. Now that they’d established his treatment of Suga, there was an air of camaraderie between them.

Daichi heard a door creak open and glanced over in the direction of the noise. Suga caught his eye and beckoned him towards the room he’d just exited. Sweaty palms. Did they make, like, palm deodorant to fix these sorts of issues? Could you use regular deodorant to fix these issues? The world may never know.

Daichi entered the room quieter than something really quiet and took in his surroundings. It was small, but in a cozy kind of way, and the shade was left open to throw a pale light across the entire room. In the bed, a large, frail man sat up in the bed, shrouded in pillows. It was easy to tell he’d been muscled at some point but sickness had gnawed away at his body until a fraction of what he had been was left. But his eyes were alert, they twinkled with a kindness that slowed Daichi’s heart to a normal speed for the first time since Suga had invited him to meet his family this morning.

Daichi felt the pressure of Suga’s palm on the small of his back as he was pushed lightly into the room. Suga spoke first, “Grandfather, this is Sawamura Daichi.”

When the man spoke, his voice was low, raw like it hadn’t been used in months. But like his eyes, Daichi felt content, happy, just hearing it, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Sugawara Akio.”

When he held out his hand it was steady but Daichi still took it carefully, shaking it just a couple times before replacing his hands awkwardly at his sides, “Likewise, sir. You’ve raised a fine young man, sir.”

He heard Suga and Bunko giggle behind him. Bunko moved to take the seat nearest Aiko on the bed, “Isn’t he so proper, darling? Koushi got himself a cute little keeper.”

Now Daichi was blushing and Suga was giggling even harder.

When Akio heard the sound, his entire face lit up. Daichi never understood how a smile could take years off of a person, but it happened, miraculously and he could see the man who had raised Suga, been a true father to him.

“So how did you two meet?” Aiko asked.

“Well, I own a hotel downtown,” (he was hoping the whole ‘gainfully employed’ portion of his life would earn him some brownie points), “And he came in one day and took my breathe away.”

Suuga wrinkled his nose, “It sounds so cheesy when you put it that way, it was more exciting than that.”

Daichi thought his explanation sounded plenty exciting but he was interested to see what Suga had to say.

“Sure that was how we technically met, but I’d like to think our romance really started when he bled all over me and got really drunk.”

Daichi had to save this somehow, “I wasn’t  _ really drunk _ , just mildly intoxicated.”

Bunko shook her head, “Aren’t we all.”

They then launched into the story of the ice skating incident, taking turns speaking and interjecting whenever someone got a detail wrong (Suga was usually the one doing this). Before they knew it, a nurse was coming in to bring Akio to therapy and it was time for Suga and Daichi to go.

Bunko grabbed his arm before he left, following Suga. When he turned to face her, he say the same sadness he’d seen in Suga’s eyes a couple nights before, and he got a new appreciation for the Sugawaras and their strength, which was never ending. 

She looked him dead in the eyes, an expression so terrifying he felt small hairs lifting on the back of his neck, “Don’t you dare let him feel guilty for being happy Sawamura Daichi, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The death grip on his elbow loosened and she pulled him into a quick, warm embrace, “Thank you, darling. It was fantastic to meet you.”

Daichi squeezed her back before saying his goodbyes and rejoining Suga in the hallway.

“What took you so long, princess?”

“You know, the usual, I have to have you back by ten under threat of death and if I even think of touching you they’ll have me skinned.”

“Oh good, I was worried they’d said something weird.”

Daichi strung an arm around Suga’s shoulders and pressed a warm kiss into his hair, “Thank you for letting me meet them.”

Suga was silent but he looped an arm around Daichi’s waist and they walked all the way back to the hotel, linked together like that, talking about nothing but it really seemed like everything.

They remained undisturbed in their bubble of happiness until arriving on the correct floor. They exited to find Akaashi and Bokuto standing outside Daichi’s door. Bokuto was knocking quite ferociously while Akaashi shook his head in the background, nose pinched between two fingers.

“Bokuto, he’s very clearly not here, why don't you just come by later?”

Bokuto continued knocking, “Where else would he be? He doesn't leave the hotel unless it's on hotel business, which I know for a fact he doesn't have. He's a low key hermit.”

Akaashi stopped shaming Bokuto long enough to notice Suga and Daichi making their way down the hallway. He waved but didn't alert Bokuto of their presence. 

Bokuto suddenly stopped knocking, his eyes wide, “What if he's dead Akaashi? What if he's in there right now, dying?,” he looked frantically from side to side, “I've got to get in there.”

Bokuto backed up until he was flush against the opposite wall and braced himself.

Akaashi watched all of this nonchalantly, “Or maybe he's been out strolling around with a certain silver-haired person.”

Bokuto looked confused, “My grandma?”

Daichi cut in, mainly to avoid Bokuto barreling toward his door and knocking it off the hinges, “Or Suga, the logical answer.”

Bokuto opened his mouth like he was about to defend his guess of his own grandmother, who Daichi had never met, but when he saw it was Daichi he practically burst into tears and flung his arms around him in a crushing embrace, “DAICHI, I thought you were DEAD I’m so happy to see you!”

Daichi was somehow very endeared by Bokuto’s concern for his life and he hugged him back, “I’m very alive and very well, as it turns out.”

Bokuto’s dramatic hysterics on his shoulder ended abruptly and he pulled Daichi away to look into his face, analyzing, “Daichi,” he said, one eyebrow raised, “Why are you accepting my hugs?”

“What do you mean, I always accept hugs,” he was a little sad that his friends didn’t see him as the hugging type when he’d already clearly established his love for human contact.

“I mean, you hug back but you don’t really  _ accept accept _ them, you know?”

Daichi narrowed his eyes, not sure where Bokuto was going with this, “Daichi,” He took Daichi’s face securely in his hands, speaking seriously, “Daichi did you fornicate last night?”

Daichi smacked Bokuto’s hands away, furious. How did he know? What the hell kind of mentalist shit was this, “What the hell kind of question is that?”

Bokuto jumped back over to Akaashi and shook his shoulders, “OH MY GOOOOOOOD, AKAASHI, DAICHI DID THE DO. HE BANGY.”

Bokuto was practically bouncing of the walls. He landed somewhere near Suga and looked him straight in the eye, “Suga, you are a God among men, I commend you. You have conquered the heart of our fierce captain and I will worship you for it, always. Thank you.”

Suga smile back at Bokuto, radiantly (as if there was any other way for Suga to smile), “Finally, the thanks I deserve.”

“You have accomplished a feat none of us thought possible,” Daichi wasn’t sure this could get any worse, “And you won Akaashi and I a hefty sum of cash.”

“Do I get a cut?”

“Well it’s like… five dollars so do you want like a ring pop? Because I was just gonna buy ring pops.”

“I would love a ring pop.”

Bokuto placed a hand on Suga’s shoulder, “I gotchu bro, I gotchu.”

Daichi loved to see new blossoming friendships, and this one between Suga and Bokuto was particularly pure and wonderful, but he was curious as to why Bokuto was pounding on the door of his empty apartment.

“So what did you need, Bokuto?”

Bokuto suddenly turned professional, standing straight and speaking at a normal volume, “Well Akaashi and I had a request about the new restaurant manager position, concerning the person who will fill that position.”

“Who were you thinking?”

“Well, we want you to consider-”

A sudden crash interrupted Bokuto, like glass hitting a wall. They all jumped and grew silent as the sounds of a one-sided argument pervaded the hallway. 

It was so loud it took them all a moment to tell what room the yelling was coming from, but all was revealed when the door to Kenma and Kuroo’s apartment flew open and Kuroo stormed out, clearly in a rage, right past them and down the stairs. Bokuto was the first of them to move, always good in a crisis. He ran after Kuroo with purpose in his step. Daichi was slower to react. Never in his life had Kuroo done anything remotely  _ near  _ yelling at Kenma. Sure, sometimes he made some passive aggressive comments but he knew who Kenma was and he wasn’t one to push him out of his comfort zone just to please himself. They didn’t fight. They were stable, domestic, a shining example that their friends aspired to. And now here they were, in the midst of a Def. Con. 5 level Kuroo blow up, directed at Kenma, and none of them knew what to do. Not even Akaashi, always the quick thinker and strategist, had a solution for this one. They were stupefied.

  
And in the open doorway, in the eerily quiet hallway, Kenma stood, 100% still, shell-shocked and looking completely, unequivocally, heart-broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apparently i have an affinity for my boys in pain) Feel free to leave a comment or if you wanna talk or look at beatiful boys you can find me on tumblr [ here. ](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/) Thank you so much for reading!


	10. Hydrangeas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the KuroKen fight and a discussion of flowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS SO IT ONLY TOOK ME A WEEK THIS TIME!!!! I already had most of this chapter planned out beforehand so I cranked it out pretty quickly! Also I hate cliff-hangers so I wanted to deal with that whole issue post-haste. Don't get too used to updates this quickly because I'm going to start work on a TenSemi fic for one of my new favorite people, but I'm also moving back up to school where I have nothing to do but write so updates may come more quickly! I really have no way of telling! 
> 
> Thanks as always to my old and favorite favorite person Lachesis for reading, betaing and liking this fic! If anyone is interested in betaing a couple other things or if you have any ideas or just want to talk, please leave comments or message me on tumblr! I'll leave the link on the end notes. I love you guys so much thank you for your kudos and comments! So without further ado, here it is! A chapter jam-packed full of KuroKen!

“Kenma, what the hell-” A warning hand on his forearm stopped him from continuing.

Suga walked into his line of sight and carefully entered the open apartment. He gently took Kenma by the shoulder and herded him out of the eerily quiet room. He closed the door gently, and ushered Kenma towards his room. Suga took charge of the situation with the simple compassionate action of letting Kenma knowing he was not alone. Daichi was amazed. Suga was stunning. Suga was kind and gorgeous and perfect and- Akaashi tapped his shoulder lightly, indicating for him to follow. 

Daichi felt guilty being so caught up in Suga when his friend was suffering what was probably one of the greatest pains he’d felt to date. Kuroo was always on Kenma’s side. Didn’t matter where, when or how when Kenma needed him Kuroo was there and now when Kenma needed him most, he’d been the one to leave Kenma broken at the door.

Daichi’s shocked awe morphed into a hateful anger. What gave Kuroo the fucking right? He  _ knew _ , better than anyone how bad Kenma was with these situations. And part of it was his own goddamn fault, he never let Kenma try and defend himself, he never got the chance to build up barriers against this kind of reaction and now he was looking at them all like he was lost. Fucking Kuroo being a fucking piece of shit.

He felt his fingernails dig into his skin, a painful anchor reminding him Kenma didn’t need any more negativity in his life right now. But he was  _ pissed _ and the emotion was on the verge of making its debut. Kenma sniffed and he looked up to see Suga watching him very closely and Akaashi sitting next to Kenma, not touching him but setting off the calming aura that saved Bokuto from emotional fits on an almost daily basis.

Daichi clenched his fists harder, ignoring the pain in his left hand where his cut was scabbed over. Suga was suddenly in front of him, pushing him back out the door with a steady hand. He kept pushing until Daichi felt his back hit Kenma and Kuroo’s door. The stupid fucking door with the stupid goddamn cats and their domestically ill parents. 

“Daichi calm down.”

Suga’s words were able to permeate his ball of hate for about a second until he started thinking about why he was angry in the first place and he remembered all the times Kuroo had beat the shit out of people for making Kenma cry when they were little and now  _ he  _ was the one doing the hurting and, “That  _ bastard _ ,” he hit his hand hard against the door behind him. There was a startled hiss and Suga exhaled in front of him. The faint smell of mint crossed his mind, because of course Suga’s breath smelled of mint permanently and when he looked at Suga he was met with a stare of muted, determined annoyance. 

“Daichi, stop.”

“But, that fucking idiot Kuroo-”

“How do you know it was Kuroo’s fault?”

Suga obviously didn’t understand, “Suga, you don’t know them like I do, I-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. I-Know-Everything, were you there? Did you hear the entire argument.”

Daichi looked down at the floor, “No.”

“Then how the hell do you know?”

No one had shut him down this quickly before, excluding his own mother. Suga was able to methodically find all the flaws in his argument and exploit them to show him why he was wrong, 

“I don’t.”

Suga removed his hand from Daichi’s chest and placed it on his own hip, “Now when you’re ready, we can go back in and wait for Kenma to be ready to tell us the whole story.”

Daichi didn’t want to wait but he knew Kenma couldn’t and shouldn’t be rushed. He took a couple deep breaths, counted to ten, and followed Sga back into the apartment. This time he was calmed down enough to truly appreciate it.

The room was mainly hotel standard but Daichi could see where Suga had spruced the place up a little. There was a peace lily at one of the windows and there was a picture here and there, mainly of his grandparents but there was one of a young man with a dyed blonde undercut ruffling a smiling Suga’s hair, making some silly expression. Daichi spied a tongue ring on the exposed appendage. The kitchen was nearly spotless minus a couple dirty plates in the sink.

Daichi searched for the complimentary snacks he knew were brought up to Suga every cleaning cycle (because he was still a quest, after all). He located it in one of the cabinets above the sink and he brought it out for them all to share. Thankfully, he’d hung out with Kuroo and Kenma a LOT in high school so he knew what Kenma liked when he was feeling down. Fatty foods (ice cream, mainly) and terribly wonderful romantic comedies. Which Daichi had plenty of. He started one of Kenma’s favorites, Leap Year, and took the seat next to Suga on the loveseat. 

He put an arm on the couch behind Suga and leaned over to whisper in his ear, over the sound of the movie but quiet enough so only they could hear, “I’m sorry, I’m a bit of a little bitch when I get angry.”

Suga snickered and leaned into Daichi, “It’s okay, just remember I know what I’m doing, I’m a little bit of an expert on these kinds of things.”

Daichi turned his attention back to the movie, ready to stay awake for however long it took for Kenma to be ready.

Eventually the entire wing had trickled into Suga’s tiny living space. It looked as if everyone had heard the fighting, (not surprising considering the insane volume of it), because they entered with somber expressions of their faces and they walked on sheer eggshells around Kenma, being as near to him as they could without bothering him. They were giving him time. Space.

When the movie ended, Suga’s room was filled to the brim with basically everyone. Asahi, Noya and Tanaka were at the breakfast bar, snacking on some popcorn they’d actually brought with them. Kageyama and Hinata had fallen asleep leaning against the front of the loveseat Suga and Daichi were snuggled up in about five minutes after arriving. Oikawa was on the opposite side of Kenma from Akaashi. Iwaizumi and Yamaguchi were making some sort of soup in the kitchen, whispering about recipes or whatever fellow cooking club members talked about. Bokuto had also returned at some point in the night, shaking his head and beckoning Akaashi into the hallway where they remained for almost an hour. Now he was inside, crying because of something that happened at the end of the movie. So much of his staff was here he wondered if anyone was actually running the hotel. But it didn’t seem to matter because what was most important right now was having Kenma know they were all here for him.

The next movie began. The Wedding Singer. Daichi winced. Not that is was a bad movie, one of the best Adam Sandler had done in his opinion (bad was not a strong enough adjective to describe some of the movies Adam Sandler had done) but it was one of Kuroo’s favorites out of the ones Kenma watched. He knew all the words from the song I Wanna Grow Old With You. It was basically their anthem. Their everything. And he never watched it without Kuroo. But when Daichi tried to skip it, Kenma raised his hand and shook his head. So Kenma watched the movie while everyone watched him, waiting. Waiting for anything really. He seemed even more emotionless than usual, he was a smooth marble wall of cool, collected consciousness, He didn’t smile, barely blinked, it even seemed he had stopped breathing. Every pause in dialogue was deafening because even the conversations in the corners of the room stopped. They were all at a loss. 

The movie was almost at an end, Drew Barrymore was leaving on a plane and Adam began singing, “-I wanna make you smile, whenever you’re sad-” Kenma sniffed.

The room burst into action. The closest of them, Oikawa, grabbed Kenma into a tight hug and brought him down to his end of the couch so it was easier for everyone to pile on. Which was exactly what they were doing. Kenma was right smack dab in the middle of an Oikawa, Noya, Yamaguchi, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Hinata,Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Akaashi, Tanaka and Bokuto sandwich. In no particular order.

They held him while small tears fell down his trembling face, and until the tears tried and turned into the saddest smile in the world. 

“Okay, I’m ready now.”

A large majority of them were pushed off the couch by a smaller minority so Oikawa, Suga and Akaashi could get the full story.

“What happened, honey?” Daichi noticed that Suga started using nicknames like his grandmother when he needed to show authority.

“Well, when Kuroo got home today, he was a little tense so I gave him some space, like I usually do. But it wasn’t working so I made him some of his favorite ramen for dinner. Which seemed to help. So we were watching some weird alien movie Oikawa told him was good,” Oikawa looked very tortured between comforting Kenma and defending his crappy sci-fi movie, “And out of the blue he asked me to move into a house with him and I said no and he started yelling.”

Daichi was going to fucking kill him.

His better half had better plans, “What did he yell about, honey?”

“About how I was more committed to everything else in my life than I was to him and how I didn’t make him feel loved-” at this point Kenma was pulled his facade back on but it looked ready to break again, “And I thought he understood, he always told me he understood. I love him more than anything.”

Kenma seemed to be reaching his limit on physical contact for the day but he rested his head in Suga’s lap and sighed when Suga started running his fingers through his hair, undoing the tangles in a soothing motion.

Daichi caught Suga’s eye and mouthed, ‘Can I be angry now?”

Suga looked down at the broken man and looked back up at Daichi, nodding.

They turned off the rom-coms (everyone was emotioned-out) and opted for some ghost hunting show the hotel cable payed for. Someone had gone to Daichi’s apartment to commandeer blankets that they spread out on the floor for more comfortable sitting/snuggling space. One-by-one they dozed off, Asahi was first, completely oblivious to what was happening on the show thanks to Noya’s hands covering his ears. After that Daichi didn’t pay much attention as his own eyes were starting to fight consciousness. It had been a long day and he found himself lost in thoughts of happier times. They’d all seen their fair bit of trouble in the past. Whether it was bullying, failure to be accepted or the death of a loved one. But somehow, they always pulled through because they were together. One entity of unified trust and comradery. But now one of their own had become the culprit. And none of them knew what to do. Because yeah, Daichi was mad. But he still loved Kuroo. He just loved Kenma too.

Coherent thoughts turned into a muddled plot of some spy-esque double agent scene that kept him asleep until Suga’s voice woke him and beckoned him to bed.

Suga handed him a pair of dark gray sweatpants he slipped into after peeling off his day clothes. Suga had replaced the plain duvet that came with the room with a fluffier floral cream one that enveloped Daichi in a pocket of warmth the moment he slipped under it. Suga joined him after changing into some cute pajamas of his own (a large shirt with a coral shrimp printed on it and some short shorts crafted by Satan himself). Suga’s body offered a cool retreat from the oven of blankets. It was a simple comfort Daichi found himself clinging to. He slept on his stomach with half his body laying on top of Suga. He couldn’t imagine it was very comfortable but Suga didn’t complain. Daichi was trading between dreams and reality. He sensed Suga shifting, knocking him into a more aware state of mind. 

Suga took a breath, “Is he going to be okay, Daichi?”

Daichi remembered the day Kuroo found Kenma. They had to have been no more than six or seven. Kenma was in the sandbox at the playground, drawing circles in the fine granules of rock. Kuroo was kicking a ball back and forth and he accidentally (intentionally) kicked the ball into the intricate patterns Kenma was creating. He ran over to apologize and was met with a calm, stoic stare of determined indifference.

Daichi was reminded of how long it took for Kuroo to actually convince Kenma to be his friend. Months of the same solid wall pushing back against Kuroo’s sheer will of determination. It wasn’t until Kenma had seen how gentle Kuroo could be, after saving a couple kittens from falling down a drain pipe that Kenma finally caved. Daichi remembered it being one of the happiest days of Kuroo’s life. Kenma might have learned to depend on Kuroo, he might have wanted to. But Kenma had never, now or ever, possibly ever in his life,  _ needed _ someone to lean on.

“Yeah,” Daichi smiled against Suga’s chest, “He will be.”

Kenma was going to be just fine.

*******

It had been two days and Kuroo still had yet to show his face. Needless to say, Daichi was still pissed.

And Daichi wasn’t the only one.Everyone was tense and irritable, leading to the worst week they’d had in ratings since opening. Guests and investors alike were calling him all hours of the day to tell him how one thing or another had gone wrong, how their service had been “less than adequate”. More than a handful of meetings had to be cancelled after Kuroo didn’t show. Losing a manager was taking a toll on the staff. He had to fill in gaps with employees not even trained in that area. One day, Hinata had gotten moved to kitchen duty and set no less than three grease fires. After than he took scheduling power from Oikawa, who had apparently thought it was a riot. To make up for two days of cancelled meetings, he jam-packed the next three with reschedules and seminars that meant all of them barely had time to eat, sleep or go to the bathroom (a fatal flaw in his plan since he had Hinata covering four events back to back. That kid’s bladder was historically unreliable). 

Halfway into day one of operation, “Where is Kuroo when you need him? Oh. That’s right. Being a fucking dumbass.” The not-so-fond name was compliments of your neighborhood stressed out and very angry hotel manager. Daichi nearly blew a gasket after realizing there was an entire wedding party gathering in the green room without a supervisor (Oikawa had been moved to handle the monthly investor meeting) but his forever savior, Suga, had been there just in time to keep him from losing his sanity. Because Suga was an expert wedding planner. And perfect. Daichi felt like he said that a lot. But he also felt it needed saying a lot. Daily, hourly, maybe even every minute on the dot. 

It was now day two out of three of hectic hotel hell and Daichi was, in one word, pooped. He was only upright thanks to his steady stream of caffeine a la Asahi. He looked up from his booking system to see Suga walking by right at that moment and decided this minute would probably be a good time to start the whole telling Suga he was perfect thing. He closed the laptop with a satisfying thump and walked swiftly up to Suga, who was flipping through the pages of some sort of bridal book, “Find anything you like?”

Suga turned and pointed to something on the page, “Actually I was thinking this wouldn’t be too bad in terms of comfortability,” his finger pointed to a picture of a woman scantily clad in a white lacy garter. And he was now picturing Suga in it. Which he didn’t think would be hot, but most definitely was.

Daichi took Suga’s hand and led him away down one of the winding employee passageways. He stopped at the hotel’s most popular make-out spot, the broom closet and pulled Suga inside. An automatic light came on when the door closed.

“Nice place you got here,” Daichi would never get tired of Suga’s sass. Not for as long as he lived.

However, he also believed Suga’s mouth could be better occupied and proved his point by pressing their lips together. It seemed like months when it had only really been a couple days since they had kissed. It felt like a missing part of him had finally found its way back home. Daichi broke off their prolonged kiss, “I missed you.”

Suga leaned in for another kiss, capturing Daichi’s bottom lip between his and nipping around it lightly, “Me too.”

Now that everything that needed to be said was out in the open, Daichi wrapped his arms around Suga’s waist and lost himself in the kiss. Suga’s hands landed somewhere in his hair, massaging back and forth in a motion he didn’t know he loved. There was a knock at the door.

“Tsukki, what the hell you can’t just interrupt them, that’s our  _ boss _ .” Yamaguchi was whispering furiously on the other side of the door,

“Our boss who is ignoring his responsibilities, in the broom closet of all places,” only one man had the power to speak with that level of sarcasm,

“But Tsukki, you sit in the broom closet for a majority of your shift and you don’t even bring me so what productive things could you be doing in there.”

“Yamaguchi did you just flame me?”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

Daichi removed himself from Suga, “It was nice while it lasted, wasn’t it?”

“But alas, your public awaits.”

Daichi opened the door and glared up at Tsukkishima, “Which of the responsibilities I’m currently shirking do I need to attend to?”

“Well there’s a wedding planner upstairs throwing a fit about having an appointment today at 3:00 and your actual 3:00 is upstairs.”

Daichi sighed. He really did not like wedding planners. Well, most wedding planners. He turned to Suga, “You’ll handle the angrier one while I do my best with the other?”

Suga stood up straight in a mock pose of attention, “Aye aye, Captain.”

Daichi glanced longingly back at the broom closet. The whole ‘captain’ nickname would have to be explored further at a later date.

*******

Finally, they were done. The last meeting had played out, the final disgruntled patron lulled into a hospitality stupor and not even a mouse made a peep. The hotel was once again at peace. And they’d learned to cope without Kuroo, the useless bastard, even if it left most of them working twice as hard for little payoff.

They were celebrating by gathering in Akaashi’s room for an impromptu game night and a hearty evening filled with pointedly ignoring the business running a few floors below. 

So far Akaashi, Kenma, Suga, Daichi, Oikawa, Asahi and Noya had shown up. Everyone else passed up on the party in favor of sleeping. Which was their mistake because Asahi and brought five devine looking pies with him; he’d been stress cooking all day.

Right now they were engaged in an Uno face off, all jumbled around the table, some people sitting on other people’s laps due to a severe lack of seating. Usually they would bring the couch to the table on the rare occasions they gathered at Akaashi and Bokuto’s but tonight it was occupied by a makeshift living area for Kenma. Mercifully (Because of Akaashi’s ‘allergies’) the cats had been left under the care of Hinata and Kageyama (who is the cat whisperer. Daichi was never surprised by this because Kageyama is clearly at least three quarters cat himself). Kenma hadn’t gone back to his apartment since the fight, Akaashi and Bokuto were happy to take him in.

But instead of focusing on the many negatives in their personal lived right now, they were focusing all of their energy into the mundane task of strategizing for an Uno game. Oikawa and Noya were notorious for bleeding so everyone knew the only card Oikawa had to play was a +4. But they also knew Noya, who had played the turn right before Oikawa, had the same card prepared to snipe away Oikawa’s hopes and dreams. It was also Noya’s last card. There was actually nothing Oikawa could do to stop Noya from winning but he liked to believe he had a chance. So they all sat there, watching Oikawa flip through the few cards he had left, willing them to turn yellow.

Akaashi sighed and pulled the +4 out of Oikawa’s hand.

Noya let out a yell of triumph, slamming his +4 down on the table, “GET SNIPED BITCH!”

Oikawa slumped forward, “Guys I had a plan! I was going to beat him!”

“What was this wonderful plan of yours, Oikawa?” Daichi asked.

“I was going to sit here until he got bored and quit.”

It...actually wasn’t a terrible plan. Asahi was in the kitchen cooking them the only decent meal they’d had the past three days and Noya never missed more than a free moment he had to watch Asah cook.

Noya rose from the table, “Now if you’ll all excuse me I have some very sexy cooking to observe.”

“Actually, you just missed out on all the cooking now,” Asahi said, walking out of the kitchen, “It’s on the stove when you guys want it.”

Noya pointed an accusing finger at Oikawa, “You planned this, she-devil.”

Now it was Oikawa’s turn to look successful, “I hope your petty victory was worth it.”

“You’ll get yours Oikawa, you’ll get yours.”

“Isn’t losing to you already punishment enough?”

Noya side-eyed Oikawa with gusto, “Um, rude?”

Asahi was teetering back and forth on the threshold between the kitchen and the larger room, apparently anxious about the altercation between Oikawa and Noya that he really should’ve been used to by now. Daichi decided they’d all had enough anxiety to last them all a month so he interrupted them before their petty argument could evolve into something much more entertaining.

“Who’s hungry?”

Everyone rose from the table in unison and headed into the kitchen where the aroma of some sort of delectable tidbit lay in wait. 

Suga fell in step with Daichi, “Nice work there, captain.”

Everyone one formed and orderly crowd around a simmering pot of stew that had them all drooling like Bokuto at a cookout.

Daichi smiled, the familiarity of everything bringing his world into focus for a moment, “The day my friends don’t cave to an offering of food, I’ll wear a pink frilly tutu around for a week.”

“Now  _ that  _ I would pay to see.”

Daichi was feeling a little frisky, “You won’t have to pay if you call me captain one more time.”

“Oh,  _ Captain _ .”

“Ewww mom and dad are being gross,” Oikawa stuck his tongue out, “Akaashi make it stop.”

“Did you know the bumps on your areola are called ‘Glands of Montgomery?”

Daichi put a hand on Suga’s cheek, trying to look serious but unable to stop the smile tugging at his lips, “Suga, I have to tell you something.”

Suga ran his hand on top of Daichi’s, managing to actually keep a straight face, “Yes, Daichi?”

“You have very nice glands of Montgomery.”

Suga was able to get his eyes to tear up, “Thank you, Daichi.”

They held up their act until Oikawa ‘ughed’ in disgust and then Suga snorted and they were both lost to laughter. Daichi heard a little giggle come from the counter and saw Kenma with a hand over his mouth, trying to cover up his smile. Which was absolutely infectious.

They took turns doing all the things they knew made Kenma laugh. Random facts, ‘your face’ jokes and very sassy comments at someone’s expense (usually Oikawa). Asahi took a pie out of the fridge and almost made it to the counter before Oikawa remembered one of the oldest tricks in the book. Daichi saw it all in slow motion.

Oikawa lifted the pie effortlessly from Asahi’s hands, the poor brute turned his face towards Oikawa, oblivious to his impending doom. The pie hit him straight in the kisser, and stuck there for a moment before the empty pan hit the floor. Asahi’s face was open wide in an expression of surprise and the creamy white stuff the pie was made of made him look comical. Like one of those kids ghosts costumes you always saw on television.

“My meringue,” Asahi’s voice sounded so wounded even Daichi felt bad for him.

Noya basically exploded, “Did you just… waste my baby’s meringue, you heathen?”

Oikawa flipped his hair, “I wouldn’t call that a waste.”

“You’ve gone too far Oikawa,” he said it with anger but he was smiling, glancing at Kenma, “Now you have to watch me seductively lick it off his face.”

Asahi backed away from Noya, but the smaller man followed him back, “Please, no, why do I have to suffer?” 

Kenma was the first to laugh and after that it was like a chain reaction. Suga doubled over and Daichi ended up getting a stitch in his side. He’d missed this. Just hanging out with his friends being complete idiots. He felt like they all missed it, as they busted a nut over a pie in the face. They had definitely needed this.

They were a second into a second wave of laughter after Noya actually started licking Asahi’s face when the front door slammed and two voices bickered into the room.

The laughter stopped and Daichi wasn’t facing the hallway, but the hurt and anxious look on Kenma’s face told him well enough who was standing behind him.

Kuroo didn’t look good. He looked how Daichi thought he should feel, broken and worn down. There was a substantial amount of facial hair peppered about his chin and his hair had been in an even greater state of disarray. He wore some worn down red flannel shirt with a pair of old jeans Daichi hadn’t seen in years. He thought Kenma had thrown them out. Bokuto’s face matched Kenma’s, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar. Kuroo’s was a mask of pain and anger (probably unjustified) and his jaw was set, the muscles of his face working back and forth. He stormed back out the door before anyone could say a word and Bokuto chased after him.

The lighthearted feeling in the room was sucked out and they were all reminded of why they were here anyway. It was a sobering thought.

“Kenma are you-”

“Will you guys be alright if I just go to bed?”

Akaashi pulled him off his perch on the counter, “Of course you can.”

“I’m sorry guys I’m just,” he took a shaky breath, “I’m so tired.”

He said it like it was the truest thing in the world. They all parted to let him pass through to the couch where he curled up. Akaashi tucked a large sherpa blanket around him and ushered everyone out the door, “I’ll let you guys know if he needs anything,” he said, answering the question they were all about to ask.

They each dispersed to their separate living areas without a word, leaving only Daichi and Suga standing in the hallways outside Akaashi’s door. They walked down the stairs together, stopping at Suga’s room.

Daichi stuck his hands in his pockets, “Well, goodnight, I guess.”

Suga reached up for a goodnight kiss, which Daichi gave him. Suga pulled away and cleared his throat into Daichi’s chest, “Would you mind… staying the night?”

Daichi blushed, “Well sure, but I-”

“I don’t want to do anything, I just,” Suga leaned his head on Daichi’s shoulder, “I like having you there. This whole Kenma and Kuroo thing has just reminded me, how nice it is to have someone.”

Daichi held Suga close, to let him know, Suga did have him.

“So will you stay the night?” 

Daichi stayed, because one does not simply deny the request of Sugawara Koushi.

*****

More days passed without even a peep from Kuroo. Occasionally Daichi would catch Bokuto leaving in the odd hours of the morning, but he was always gone before Daichi could catch him to find out what was going on. He felt helpless and in the dark but he was doing everything he could do. Which was basically nothing compared to what Suuga was doing.

He’d compiled a list of people with too much time on their hands (Oikawa, Akaashi and Kageyama) as a Kenma support group. Their activities included buying Kenma video games, getting beat by Kenma in video games, and taking him places out of his comfort zone (which Suga explained would force him to get his mind off of Kuroo and focus his energy and thoughts on something more productive).               

It seemed to be working, Daichi thought as he walked into the very loud room occupied by Oikawa (who was yelling excuses for why exactly he was last), Hinata (who was yelling about how much Kageyama sucked), Kageyama (who was yelling at Hinata for yelling at him), Kenma (so quiet and concentrated the air around exuded silence), and Suga, (who was holding a controller but too busy laughing to actually play). They were apparently playing smash bros, which Kenma had been nationally ranked in once and Daichi was pretty sure the only reason Kageyama was playing was to give Kenma a challenge, since he was infuriatingly good at everything.

Daichi pecked Suga on the cheek and plopped down on the floor next to him, “But really, Oikawa, why are you last? Suga’s not even playing.”

Daichi watched as Oikawa singled out Kageyama and was crushed to dust, little more than an afterthought in the grand scheme of the Kenma v. Kageyama showdown. Oh, that’s why. The only reason Suga was still alive was because his character, Princess Peach (his player card read Daichi), stood safely in a corner, away from the carnage. Daichi didn’t even like the game but he always found it hard to leave his seat when these two went at it. Kageyama was talented, sure, but Kenma was practiced and observant, he saw every move coming and exploited every mistake before Kageyama even had the chance to make it. He watched the screen with cat-like eyes, focused and calculated.

He looked... as happy as he could be without his better half. The cats were wrapped around him like they were afraid he was going to leave again and it hit Daichi how good Kenma was at just holding the broken pieces of himself together.

“I see the father has been reunited with his prodigal sons,” it was almost comical how all three (the cats and Kenma) swiveled their heads at the exact same time to address Akaashi, the speaker, and Bokuto who had just walked in. While he wasn’t paying attention, Kageyama’s character swooped in for the kill. 

He almost succeeded but before he could Hinata screeched and covered Kageyama’s eyes with his hands, “You cheaty McCheaterPants, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Dumbassy McDumbass!”

Oikawa whistled, “Tobio-chan, back at it again with the truly stellar name-calling.”

Daichi got so caught up in the hand-slapping fight that followed, he barely notices Suga moving at his side until noises from the screen told him both Kageyama and Kenma had died.

An end screen informed them all Suga was the victor. Daichi looked at him, shocked, “You sly bastard.”

Kenma narrowed his eyes at Suga, “I would like to say I’m surprised.”

Suga smiled, “No one ever claimed I was a saint.”

Oikawa dumped his controller on the couch next to him, “Actually Daichi has on several occasions.”

Bokuto nodded, “No less than ten times in the past week, if I’m correct.”

Akaashi sat on top of the couch, perched like an owl behind Kenma, “Eleven, to be exact.”

Daichi’s face was flaming, “Well, I mean, um, I-”

Kenma saved him from sputtering his way to an early death by embarrassment, “Thanks, Suga.”

They nodded in unison, Akaashi said “You’ve done a lot for all of us this week, Daichi would’ve been a dead man without you.”

Oikawa was next to speak, “Or Daichi would’ve killed us all.”

“Either way, you’re a life-saver,” Kageyama shrugged.

Hinata stood up straight, “THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY LIFE SUGA-SAN!”

Suga was blushing, not used to this kind of treatment from people other than his grandparents, “Thank you.”

“This love fest needs more alcohol,” Kageyama frowned, overwhelmed by the love.

Oikawa smirked, “You know, Tobio-chan, when you frown you strongly remind me of a fish.”

Kageyama glared fiercely, “You always remind me of a fucktard.”

“Oh, langage Tobio-chan!”

“Hey, we don’t have to watch our language anymore because Kuro-” Akaashi clamped a hand over Bokuto’s mouth too late.

After days of balancing tediously on the cliff Kuroo had created, someone had slipped. Now they had to face the music and accept the fact Kuroo was gone. For how long, no one knew but to Kenma each day must have seemed an eternity. The only word Daichi could think of to describe Kenma was defeated.

“I miss him.”

They knew. They knew but they weren’t going to say it, because what was the point? He knew they knew and they knew he knew and their life had become a circle of mutual pain and a loving pity.

A song cut into their forlorn silence, A$$ by Big Sean, one of Kuroo’s favorite. Any other week it would’ve been hilarious, but this time, they all stared at the phone, wondering if it was just their collective imagination or Kuroo actually calling, after avoiding Kenma, walking out on him. 

Daichi almost didn’t want him to answer it. Kuroo didn’t  _ deserve _ to have Kenma answer it. But he could be calling for any number of reasons, not all of them bad. Perhaps he was ready to grovel at Kenma’s feet, or sell his soul to the devil to get Kenma back, or any number of other plausible things Daichi would see him do before he ever forgave him.

Kenma reached for the phone like it was a hot stove, prepared for the burn it may leave, “Kuroo?”

They waited with baited breath. Then the breathing stopped all together when Kenma’s face turned white, his eyes wide. He put the phone down and stared at a wall when he spoke, “Kuroo’s in the hospital.”

*****

Daichi’s heart grew several sizes when he saw how fast they all reacted. Hinata and Kageyama claimed temporary ownership of the cats, leaving the rest of them to lead Kenma out the door and into Akaashi’s modestly-sized minivan. Which Daichi had never seen a use for until now, when six of them refused to be anywhere else and everyone else owned a sports car or an economy class five-seater. They had to move some art supplies from the back seat into the very back, but other than that they were buckled in and off. Daichi now knew why Bokuto had Akaashi drive him everywhere in college. He was a maniac. He ducked and weaved through the rush hour traffic, cutting corners so close Daichi was almost convinced they were phasing into an alternate space dimension just to give them room to pass.

Before the vehicle had even come to a complete stop in the crowded hotel parking lot, Kenma was out of it, making a beeline for the lighted ER sign. Everyone else waiting for Akaashi to pull to a complete and total stop before chasing after Kenma to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like walk face first into a moving vehicle. Or a parked one for that matter. However at the pace he was making, it quickly became clear they would never catch up to him. At least if he hurt himself, they were already at the hospital.

They finally reached the automatic doors of the ER waiting room that seemed perpetually open, Kenma was inside, standing in the middle of the room talking to a nurse. To anyone else, he looked 100% uninterested but Daichi could see the growing agitation behind his minute movements.

Akaashi stood behind Kenma, addressing the nurse, “What’s happening with Kuroo?’

“Well he got out of the operating room a couple hours ago an-”

“Wait, you waited  _ two hours _ to contact someone?” Oikawa put on his best, ‘I’d like to speak with your manager,’ act, trying to get him the upper-hand with the nurse.

She seemed unimpressed, “Three, actually,” the nurse frowned at them, “And the only reason we called was under request of Kuroo-san’s family, who informed us they now live overseas.”

“But I’m his emergency contact.”

The nurse sniffed, “Apparently not, or you would have been notified earlier.”

Kenma took this as a serious blow. He looked down, letting his hair fall down about his face, protecting him from the harsh reality before him.

Suga stepped forward, “Well, can we at least see him?”

“Are you family?”

“Not by blood, but-”

“Only family is allowed in.”

“Please, ma’am, we just want to make sure he’s okay. Kenma is his… his boyfriend of about 10 years-”

“If he’s not family legally, I’m not interested.”

Suga narrowed his eyes but gave up, passing off the reins to Oikawa, “Look, bitc-”

A familiar head of dyed-blonde hair pulled back by a headband appeared behind the nurse. Daichi decided now was a good time to take action, “Dr. Ukai!” Ukai continued walking away so Daichi abandoned the lost cause of a nurse to search greener pastures, “Dr. Ukai!”

Ukai turned with a stern frown on his face that only deepened when he saw Daichi, “What did you injure this time?”

“No, it’s not me,” Daichi held up his hands as if to prove he was in perfect working order, then pointed back to Kenma, “A friend of ours was in an accident and were having a little trouble getting in to see him, you might remember him. Kuroo Testurou? Bed head, stupid shitty smirk?”

Ukai’s face lit with recognition but remained dark, impassive, “Yeah the annoying one. I remember,” Ukai started walking towards the nurse so Daichi followed him, like a sibling who’d just tattled and was ready to watch the fall out.

Ukai tapped the nurse of the shoulder and pointed behind him, “You can go ahead and move on to the next patient, I got this.”

  
  
  


His friends, who had been bickering loudly with the nurse not moments ago, now stood at rapt attention when faced with the strong authoritative aura that emanated from Ukai, “First of all, what was he doing on a motorcycle insured under the name of one, Bokuto Kotarou?”

Akaashi turned to Bokuto, fire in his eyes. He’d thought Bokuto got rid of the bike a week after buying it on impulse at a car fair that had passed through town, “I don’t know, Bokuto, what the hell  _ was _ he doing?”

Bokuto looked justifiably terrified. Like Asahi levels of terrified, “Uh,” he scuffed his shoes on the floor, thinking of a reasonable excuse that wouldn’t get his ass kicked, “Having a midlife crisis?”

“He’s 25 Bokuto.”

Bokuto gave Akaashi his best puppy dog eyes, “Having a quarter-life crisis?”

Akaashi spoke sternly, “We’ll talk about this later.”

Ukai explained to him how Kuroo had managed to crash into a parked car after dodging a kid who’d run into the street for a feather. No one had been injured, except for him, but the bike was totalled, little more than a hunk of metal. They were told Kuroo was lucky to have gotten away with no more than the injuries he had.

Ukai pulled out a chart and looked it over, “He has a couple broken bones, nothing that won’t heal in time. Several lacerations to his face and upper body and possibly a minor concussion, to be confirmed at a later date.”

Kenma placed a hand over his mouth, his other arm crossed across his body in a protective manner. Ukai took notice of this and spoke in a gentler tone, “I can let you all in to see him, but I’m only giving you fifteen minutes. After that you have to skedaddle.”

They nodded like children promised a puppy as long as they agreed to feed it and take it for walks. Ukai nodded before leading them through a second set of double doors and down a corridor until they reached a room, filled with weird beeping instruments and at the far bed, the figure of Kuroo.

He was sleeping, it seemed, his left leg heavily bandaged and an arm wrapped in a black splint, lying across his chest. He wore a thin, pale hospital gown and where there was bare skin there were bandages or red irritation where the smaller cuts were. He had several on his cheek, running from the top of his right cheekbone to the edge of his lip. Kenma made a small distressed noise and moved towards the bed. He climbed carefully in on Kuroo’s left (his least injured side), and curled up next to him. Daichi was pretty sure that wasn’t the best idea but no one looked willing to tell him not to, not even Ukai, who stood in the corner for a few more moments, before excusing himself and warning them they were on the clock. Kenma placed his head on top of Kuroo’s chest and held his breath while listening to Kuroo’s, just to be sure he was truly okay, he was actually alive. They all watched the steady rise and fall of Kenma on Kuroo’s chest. They fit together perfectly, and Kenma finally looked whole again, clutching to the love of his life.

Kenma buried his head in the fabric of Kuroo’s gown and bunched his fists where Kuroo’s heart lay. He started sniffling, short and breathy, as if he were trying to hide his tears. But then Kuroo took a deep breath and murmured in his sleep and Kenma finally let himself go. He wailed, loud enough to wake Kuroo, and he shed enough tears to soak not only Kuroo’s gown, but the bed sheets around it.

The rest of the party hovered by the door, slightly in the room, not wanting to intrude on this intimate moment but ready to be there for when Kuroo woke up, in case he was still being a colossal dick waffle.

Kuroo started to stir, roused by Kenma’s crying. He lifted his injured arm into the air a fraction and winced. He tried moving his other arm instead, but found its movement cut off by Kenma’s body. His eyes opened lethargically to find whatever was obstructing his movement, 

“Kenma?”

Kenma unburied his head to look up at Kuroo. They stared at each other silently for a few moments, stuck in a limbo between anger and need. Kenma fell into a new wave of tears, clutching himself even tighter to Kuroo’s body. Kuroo grimaced in pain but other than that didn't seem bothered, more relieved. He wrapped both his arms (injured or not) around Kenma.

He lifted him higher so Kenma’s head was pleased snugly right below his and breathed in nothing but Kenma. Just being near him made him look alive. Kuroo took a shaky breath, “I'm so goddamn sorry, kitten,” Daichi folded his arms, not yet satisfied with this apology (even if it wasn't his business to begin with), “I'm such a fucking idiot, I should be happy just being around you. And I am, I always have been. I don't know what the fuck I was doing.”

Kenma mumbled something that sounded like “language, Kuroo” as his sobs turned back to sniffles and deep, punctuated breaths.

Kenma had forgiven Kuroo, the lucky undeserving bastard. But at least Kuroo had the sense to continue his apology, “I'm serious, kitten,” he pushed Kenma’s hair behind his ear and looked him in the eye, “I don't need the white picket fence or the Sunday newspapers or any of it, really. The only thing I need is you. I love you so much and I don't want to lose you. You’re the only thought that can soothe my mind to sleep, and the only face I want to see when I wake up in the morning.”

Kenma stared blankly at Kuroo, eyes locked in his every single minute movement. He looked like a cat, poised and ready to pounce, “Marry me then.”

Kuroo’s golden eyes got wide, “Am I, did you-” his mouth sputtered open in a vaguely fish-like manner, “What?”

Kenma sat up on the backs of his feet, sitting up straight and keeping one hand lightly positioned on Kuroo’s chest, “We should get married… soon.”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes and his mouth curled up in its usual shit-eating grin filled with love, “Are you pregnant?”

Kenma smiled back, not as fiercely but with as much affection as Kuroo’s, “I don’t care where we live or what careers we have. I just want to be with you for as long as I have on this planet and if there’s anything after this, I want that for us too. So let’s get married.”

Kuroo leaned up painfully to meet Kenma halfway in a tentative yet passionate kiss. It was the same way they carried out most of their relationship, with small grand gestures. Kuroo pulled away and ran his hand through the unruly mess on his head, “Holy shit,” he seemed to finally notice everyone else in the room, watching the entire incident with calculating eyes until the end of their conversation, which had most of them in tears, “I’m getting married.”

They sniffled, caught up in the momentous occasion of firsts. After years of joking and betting on who would be the first to take the plunge, Kuroo and Kenma, of all people. And  _ Kenma _ had asked. Not that them getting married was such a far-fetched idea, it was just that neither of them had ever seemed to care much about the labels that came with being married. It was enough to just be together. It must’ve taken something as big as realizing they might never see each other again for them to register how in love they really were. Which took them much too long, in Daichi’s opinion.

Kuroo had pulled Kenma back down with him into the bed and was pressing kisses to every exposed molecule of his skin. He stopped abruptly, a cog clicking into place in his mind, “Hold on just one dingle darn second, I don’t have a ring.”

Bokuto wiped his eyes, “Ah bro, I gotchu,” he rustled around in a brown paper bag that Daichi noticed for the first time. He pulled out a perfect ring of deep fried fatty perfection and held it out for all to bask in the glory of, “I have an onion ring.”

Oikawa looked at the salty O incredulously, “Bokuto, where the hell did you get onion rings?”

Bokuto shrugged and reached into the grease-stained bag to grab another to crunch on, “I stress eat.”

Suga stifled a laugh, “I think that question was less of a ‘why’ the onion rings and more of a ‘how did you come across those heart-attack in a bag delicious monstrosities’, kind of question.”

Akaashi was the one to answer, “Onion rings are the fabric of our society, they are all-consuming, they are everywhere.”

Bokuto stuffed another sizable hoop in his mouth, “All you must do is ask, and you shall receive.”

Kenma and Kuroo were too caught up in each other to have an opinion on the great onion ring debate of 2016, “I figured we could go together, make sure we don’t pick the wrong thing.”

“You just don’t want to talk to the associates.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

Kenma blushed, as if his friends hadn’t just witnessed his own profession of love and hearing Kuroo tell Kenma he loved him was some new thing they’d never experienced.

“Wait,” Kuroo tensed, “How does this work anyway? Do we  _ both _ get best men? Do your parents pay, or mine?”

Kenma sighed and shrugged, knowing what was coming next. They all knew. Daichi braced himself by taking one onion ring for himself and then passing one to Suga when he eyed them longingly. Kuroo didn’t stress about many things. He was know for keeping a cool head under pressure and taking charge, but on the rare occasion he wasn’t able to subdue the pressure, he went  _ all out _ .

“Dear  _ god _ there’s so much _ planning _ ,” he lay back down on his pillows, burying his face slightly in the fluffy mountain of them. Really all this excitement and moving probably wasn’t good for him, but Ukai just passed every now and then with a smirk on his face, or a stern glare while he pointed at his watch, “I really should’ve taken my obligatory wedding pinterest board seriously, I’m not at all prepared for this.”

Kenma sighed again, “Kuroo, you can have however many best men you want. We’ll figure everything out when we get there. We have time.”

Kuroo scoffed, “Time my  _ ass _ . Do you know how quickly venue reservations go? Every second wasted is a second that could be spent getting the last hydrangea in existence.”

“Last time a checked hydrangeas were a flower. A flower you can grow.”

“Yeah but what if some strain of some unknown fungus takes out all the hydrangea crop, then what do I do?”

Suga waved the question off like it was trivial, “Then you can use verbena or sweet peas, depending on your price range. And technically you can have however many best men you want. It’s your wedding and traditions are meant to be changed as time goes on.”

“That seems kind of contradictory.”

“Yeah but when you think about it, if the world changes shouldn’t its conventions change as well?”

Kuroo seemed satisfied with this answer, excited even. He addressed the entire room, “Guys, guys want to be my best men?”

Bokuto started hyperventilating in the corner as he nodded yes with all the others. Akaashi shook his head after giving Kuroo his affirmation, “Bokuto, please chill your tits postehaste, before we have a repeat of the great dinosaur debacle of 2013.”

Daichi shuddered as the repressed memory of what happened tried to rework its way into his mind.

“They put us on a list, Bokuto. We’ll never be allowed back in that museum again,” Oikawa had both hands on Bokuto’s shoulders, to make sure he was listening, “We can’t be never allowed back in the hospital again, we’ll die.”

Kuroo had his eyes on Suga, “Suga, you haven’t said yes yet.”

Suga had confusion in his eyes, “Yes to what?”

“Being my best man.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you were talking to me.”

“What the fuck Suga, of course I was. Why wouldn’t I invite the person who finally made Daichi realize what a fucking romantic piece of shit he is to be my best man?” Kuroo raised one eyebrow.

Suga squeezed Daichi’s hand, which he had been discreetly holding between them since entering the room, “Of course I’ll be your best man.”

Kenma turned his head and cocked it to the side, “Are you allowed to be a best man and the wedding planner?”

“There are no rules against it.”

Kuroo placed a hand on Kenma’s shoulder, looking at him with probably an unhealthy amount of love before turning his eyes to Suga, “So, you’re our wedding planner then?”

“I- I would be honored.”

“Fucking A dude, fucking A.” Kuroo relaxed after throwing all of his wedding-related anxiety onto Suga’s shoulders. Suga looked happy to take it though. After all, it was his job.

Bokuto crumpled up the now grease and tear stained onion ring back to bring attention to himself, “Can I be the bestest man?”

Kuroo’s bottom lip quivered, “Of course, bro.”

Bokuto’s voice broke, “Bro.”

He jumped at Kuroo for a hug, unsuccessfully. Kuroo pushed him away with his one good arm, “Ow, fucking hell Bo, get the fuck off.”

Bokuto stuck out his lower lip, “But Kenma gets snuggles!”

Kuroo pulled Kenma back down to him, “That’s because Kenma’s my fiance.”

Kenma blushed, returning to his post at the crook of Kuroo’s neck.

“Man, I want a fiance,” Bokuto looked at Akaashi hopefully.

“Marriage is a social construct symbolizing the loss of your spiritual and bodily freedom.”

“Why do you hate me, Keiji?”

“I don’t hate you I just have student loans to pay off and a boyfriend who’s still five years old emotionally.”

Bokuto pouted, proving Akaashi’s point.

Ukai came back into the room, “Alright guys, times up.”

“Aw, can at least Kenma stay?”

Ukai shook his head, “No, but he can come back tomorrow morning. We want to keep you for at least another night then you can go rest up at home.”

Kuroo gave Kenma a goodbye kiss, “Good, it's been too long since I’ve been there.”

They all promised to check in when they got a free moment and thanked Ukai for his hospitality. The drive back to the hotel was silent, Bokuto and Kenma asleep after a very emotionally trying day and the rest of the occupants surprisingly content to just sit, thinking. Akaashi was focused, unblinking on the road, humming some wordless tune. Oikawa had his phone out, probably texting Iwaizumi all the events of the night. Suga was leaning his head on Daichi’s shoulder, yawning every few moments.

  
Daichi was… happy. Not that it was an unusual feeling for him, he just never knew it could be this potent. He’d always been content in life, but now, looking at Suga slowly drifting off with a smile playing on his lips, he realized that was all he’d ever been. Content. The rest of this was new. The excitement in waking up every morning knowing Suga was on the earth. The camaraderie he felt knowing Suga had his back. The… love. Because that had to be what he was feeling, love. The simultaneous sensation of falling to his doom but being so drunk on the sensation what lay at the end of the tunnel didn’t matter. He took Suga’s hand in his, playing with his fingers. Memorizing each dip and curve. He was in love with this man. And he’d never felt more alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! 
> 
> Here is my [ tumblr! ](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/)


	11. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his life revolved around Suga. He was the only thing he thought about. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS!!! I've returned from my writing hole! This is my second day of posting I only have one more thing that I'm finishing up to post tomorrow! This chapter is a little bit of a set up, not much happens until the end but I had fun writing it! Also it's looking like were getting to the end BUT I'M NO WHERE NEAR DONE WITH THIS AU. I have lots of future plans, some already coming to fruition!
> 
> Here's what I posted yesterday if you're interested!  
> -[ Matsuhana ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878991) oneshot!  
> -[ BokuAkaa ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7879189/chapters/17996125) installment in this AU!
> 
> Thank you thank you to Lachesis for betaing, and fixing my problems and sticking along on this train wreck of a fic! Please Enjoy!

Daichi was slowly coming to terms with the fact that his life revolved around Suga. He was the only thing he thought about. Literally. He overpoured his coffee in the morning because he was remembering how Suga looked, sleeping peacefully at his side, hand curled up on his chest. He had a small pout on his lips and Daichi was late to work because once Suga started sleep talking there was no way Daichi was going to miss a second of it. And later in the day, during a meeting with a particularly vexing wedding planner, he found himself thinking how much more enjoyable his life would be if he could have all these meetings with Suga present. When the man smiled at him, revealing tobacco-stained teeth, instead of being mildly concerned for his health, his face was replaced with Suga’s dimpled one. Or Suga sitting at Daichi’s kitchen table (really, Daichi would ask him to move in at this point if he wasn’t so afraid of Suga’s answer) going through piles of reference pictures with Kuroo for a wedding which was sure to be the event of the century. Then his mind was left to wander more significant trivial Sugaisms. And when his mind got started, he had to reduce his answers to hums of agreement because there was no way he was going to be able to actually listen to this guy after he started day-dreaming about Suga. However, the worst instance of his “Suga Sickness” happened during a staff revenue meeting where he continuously called everyone Suga. And of course, instead of saving themselves from an embarrassment-induced Daichi rage, they made sure to include Daichi in every conversation, so he could not avoid his addiction. Daichi made sure to assign everyone double shifts for the next week.

An action he was regretting, now that he was three days into the new schedule and had nothing to do in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Suga was visiting his grandfather, Kuroo was still hospitalized until someone picked him up later in the afternoon and everyone else was working, because Daichi was a sadist. He really just wanted to work. But he couldn’t go downstairs. If he went downstairs they won. Then what little power he had left over them would disappear faster than Kuroo would burst into tears after watching Say Yes to the Dress, another terrible side effect of them all moving forward in their lives.

They had planned on the weeks leading up to the wedding to run smooth and be fairly stress-free, but Kuroo apparently had other plans. Instead of being the cool-headed, quick-thinking friend they’d all come to know and love, he had completely freaked as soon as he realized he was going to be  _ married _ . He made quick friends with Tanaka’s sister Saeko, who had already been married (and divorced) once. Apparently one slightly demented personality in his life had been enough for Akiteru. And he now cried constantly. Daichi didn’t know what it was about stress that completely changed Kuroo’s body but he could be found hiding in the bathroom of his hospital room gorging himself on Asahi’s gourmet ice cream (which Daichi still wasn’t sure how he’d acquired).

Another downside to Kuroo’s condition, which Suga called, “Crazy Bride Syndrome”, was that Daichi had even less time to spend with Suga. It was comforting to know he was dedicated to his job and clients but it became bothersome when that client was the bane of his existence (Kuroo) and basically took up every single free moment Suga had. Daichi just wanted a night all to himself to make-out with and worship Suga, but Kuroo had very different plans. Daichi hoped, for his sake, it was a beautiful goddamn ceremony, or he might just kill somebody.

Daichi stole a glance at his alarm clock. The green numbers blinked 8:05 at him. Apparently whining to himself in bed wasn’t a great way to pass time. Daichi decided to finally be an adult and got out of bed to make himself an adult amount of coffee. He stretched, back popping and muscles being sore at him in every sense of the word. After flicking on the percolator to brew an extra-large pot of dark liquid heaven, he padded over to the couch, ready to turn on the television so he didn’t look like he was just sitting on the couch daydreaming (which was exactly what he planned on doing). But before he could actually sit and begin to muse, a knock came at his door. A knock he would of ignored if the busybody inside him wasn’t crying at the chance to be a useful member of society.

He didn’t even give the couch a second glance or check his reflection to make sure he looked presentable before opening the door. A mistake on his part when he opened it and was greeted by the far-too-loud for the morning (or ever really) voices of Noya and Tanaka. Suga might have turned him onto the whole, ‘every side of the bed is the wrong side of the bed if you’re waking up on it,’ mantra.

Tanaka looked him up and down, one eyebrow raised, “Damn Daichi, you been working out? Also aren’t you cold?”

He actually had been working out, getting back into his sport routine, but he didn’t see why this was relevant.

Noya whistled, “No Tanaka, he’s very hot, can’t you see?”

Now that Daichi thought about it, there was a bit of a breeze. He shivered as soon as he thought about it. Then his mind tried to give him reasonable explanations for why he might be so cold and one rationale stuck out him. He looked down and, Hm. Yep. Definitely his own shirtless body down there. This is what he gets for not injecting caffeine into his body the moment he woke up every morning. 

He felt a flush run up to his ears and cleared his throat, “So, I’m just going to go put on a shirt now.”

They both shouldered past him to lounge on his couch, Noya landed like a feather but Tanaka threw himself down with enough force to force a creak from the sofa. Daichi’s eyebrow twitched and he patted himself on the back, his self control once again stopping him from murdering them both right then and there. He closed the door and turned in the direction of his bedroom, to search for a shirt. Tanaka flipped around on the couch to face him, “Oh no, please don’t clothe yourself on our account.”

“Yeah, you’re doing him a favor. You’re exactly Ryuu’s type.”

Daichi stopped cold in his tracks, “Excuse me?”

Tanaka was blushing fiercely and swatting at Noya’s head. The latter was dodging his every

attack with ease, “Oh please, buff, dark, natural born leader? Daichi doesn’t scream Chikara to you?”

Tanaka stopped trying to pin Noya to the couch and crossed his arms across his chest, “Shut the hell up, Noya.”

Chikara. Why did that name ring a bell?

“Awww, Ryuu  _ does _ have a crush!”

“No I do not! I just gave him a tennis lesson.”

Tanaka was hitting on a guest?

“Yeah, I bet you wanna give preppy little college boy a lesson in something else too.”

Daichi went over the guest list in his mind, trying to determine who Tanaka could be terrorizing this week so he could send them some apology lobster. What preppy college boys by the name of Chikara… It finally clicked in his brain. Daichi was not happy, “By ‘Chikara’ would you happen to mean Ennoshita Chikara? Son of Ennoshita-san, our largest investor? Who warned me under threat of death to not let any of my employees lay a hand on his pure sunshine child?” Tanaka squawked, blush spreading to every corner of his face. Even Noya went still, poised like a cat ready to spring at any moment. They were expecting a Daichi rampage. So was he. But it wasn’t coming. He was just thinking of Tanaka. Tanaka, who struck out at every opportunity and who’d never been part of a non-abusive relationship in his life. Tanaka deserved a pretty little rich boy. And Daichi remembered meeting Ennoshita when he arrived. The kid seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.

Daichi sighed, he’d gone soft, “Just be careful with him, okay?”

Tanaka looked confused, “You mean,” he swallowed, “You’re not going to beat me within an inch of my life?”

“Who would terrify the children if not you?”

Noya snorted, “Please, the children love Ryuu, it’s the adults with the problem.”

“Aw, so you love me, Little Noya?” Tanaka knew he’d just made his life forfeit. Daichi could see it in his eyes. But the poor bastard was still laughing when Noya lunged at him, screaming profanities.

Daichi was going to escape to his room, leaving the delinquents to whatever the hell they were doing, but he noticed something on the coffee table where Noya had carefully slammed it down before going after Tanaka. Something distinctly coffee-shaped.

He sniffed. Yep, that was coffee, “Noya, is that,” he was practically salivating. Daichi blamed himself for the textbook case of classical conditioning, “Coffee?”

He stopped beating the shit out of Tanaka and sat back up, apparently remembering he actually had a reason to be in Daichi’s room, “To be more specific it’s Asahi’s extra strength Americano.” 

Daichi grabbed it and took a couple delicious warm gulps. He felt like a prisoner feeling sun on his skin for the first time in months. Or more accurately, a drug addict getting his fix.

“It’s a bribe,” Daichi didn’t really care at this point, so he continued drinking and Noya continued talking, “For babysitting us when we go to get Kuroo.”

This gave Daichi pause, “Why do you need a babysitter?” Usually it would be a ridiculous question where Tanaka and Noya were concerned, but they’ve been going to the hospital incident-free since the accident. He wanted to know why this time was different.

Tanaka made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat, “Well um, last time we took Saeko and uh,” he paused to clear his throat again, “She hit on the doctor.”

Daichi almost spit out his coffee, “She  _ what _ ?”

“Well somehow she’d avoided meeting the doctor despite how often she’s over there planning with Kuroo and Suga but yesterday Ukai came in just to check in and she-”

“She took one look at the man and informed him how she planned on taking him in one of the supply closets.”

Tanaka was an odd green hue, “It was horrifying”

“She’s my idol.”

“But anyway Ukai, you know how he is, went on a rampage and told us we weren’t allowed to come back without proper adult supervision.”

“And you’re an adult and all the other adults we know are working, so we brought you coffee.”

Daichi downed the rest of the large cup, “Smart move.”

Noya beamed, “It was Asahi’s idea.”

That weak-willed bastard. Daichi excused himself to get properly dressed and returned five minutes later to a room in such disarray he wouldn’t be surprised if a tornado had blown through. He shooed the two disasters out and down the hall before they could do more damage.

They waited until he was in the parking lot to tell him Saeko was driving. He felt the color drain from his face and he turned to walk swiftly back in but there were two iron grips on either arm. His body couldn’t handle this level of stress. He was already 25 going on 60. He slumped, admitting defeat.

“Hey, Daichi, is that a white hair?”

He wouldn’t be surprised.

*****   
  


When they arrived 15 aging minutes later, Daichi wanted to kiss the ground with glee.

Tanaka had similar idea, “Do you think Suga would plan my wedding with this asphalt if I asked?”

They got in no problem, making Daichi wonder if his presence was really necessary. He was assured it was when Ukai spotted them from across the room, “NO.” 

Staff looked around for the disruption. When they saw Ukai stalking across the room, most of them turned the opposite direction.

“Not today assholes.”

Saeko smirked as soon as he reached them, 

“Babe, you should probably chill,” she looked him up and down deviously. Daichi could see why Tanaka was be embarrassed, “I know a great way to relieve stress.”

Ukai stared at her wide-eyed, face red from either arousal or anger, it was hard to tell the difference, “Dear God, why me.”

He turned and walked away without acknowledging the rest of him.

“Oh babe, where you going?” Saeko started walking after him, then running when he saw her following and broke into a straight sprint.

Noya pumped his fist in the air, “Yeah, go get him, Nee-san!”

Tanaka looked ready to barf. Good thing they were in a hospital, “Please don’t encourage her.”

Daichi patted Tanaka on the back sympathetically, walking past the situation into Kuroo’s room. Where he was faced with a similar problem. At first, everything seemed in order, Kuroo was in civilian clothing, sitting on the bed. The room was clean and the bed for the most part made but Kuroo seemed to be in hysterics. He looked up when Daichi entered, “Where have you  _ been _ ?”

Daichi stopped, suddenly uncomfortable seeing who he considered his most level-headed friend crying, “Um, Kuroo? You doing alright there buddy?”

Kuroo sniffed, like he was about to get it together, then wailed, “No,” He held his hands out, “I need a hug.”

Daichi walked over to the bed awkwardly, sitting down and letting Kuroo wrap his arms around his middle, staining his shirt with tears. Kuroo’s cast was digging into his back, reminding him to be gentle. They usually didn’t hug. Not unless copious amounts of tequila were involved. He was just starting to understand what Suga meant by “Crazy Bride Syndrome”.

He had a very hard time taking Kuroo seriously, “Um, what’s wrong?”

Kuroo took a long faltering breath, “Kenma hasn’t visited me today.”

If Daichi were Kenma, he would also not be visiting, “Well that’s because he’s at work.”

Kuroo’s voice jumped a couple octaves, “How could he do this to me?!”

“What exactly is he doing to you?”

Kuroo turned so the back of his head was in Daichi’s lap and rubbed his hands over his face, “This is all my fault. Why am I such an asshole?”

A question Daichi asked himself everyday, “What do you mean?”

Kuroo looked up at Daichi, eyes swollen and snot running down his face, “What if he leaves me because he realizes I’m an asshole?”

Daichi patted Kuroo’s head, which was surprisingly soft without all the gel shit in it, “Trust me, he already knows.”

Instead of this comment comforting him, Kuroo burst into a new round of tears, “For God’s sake Kuroo, get a tissue.”

Daichi pulled one out of the box already situated on the bed and handed it to him. Kuroo looked at the tissue before pulling Daichi into another hug, rubbing snot on his now ruined shirt, “Daichi, you’re a great friend, I don’t deserve you.”

Daichi rolled his eyes, praying for Tanaka and Noya to hurry the hell up. Kuroo was just beginning to calm down when they finally graced them with their presence.

“Ready to go?”

Daichi shook Kuroo,  “Please.”

Kuroo gently lifted himself into a sitting position, then squinted at the door, “Where’s Saeko?”

Tanaka looked troubled, ‘I don’t know and I don’t really want to find out.”

Noya shrugged, ‘We could wait for her down by the car?”

Daichi nodded, hoping a change of scenery and some fresh air would do Kuroo some good.

The were halfway down the hallway, Tanaka and Noya leading the way, Kuroo hanging off of Daichi like a lost child, when Noya stopped in front of a door marked ‘Supplies’. He had a devious glint in his eyes. Tanaka looked lost until he noticed the door and horror spread across his features, “No, Noya please just let me live in ignorant bli-”

Noya swung the door open. Behind it was Tanaka’s worst fear realized. His sister, pressed up against the wall in only pants and a bra while his friend’s doctor defiled her, hairband long gone with Saeko’s hands gripped in his hair. Tanaka ran to the bathroom to barf, presumably. Noya high-fived Saeko, Kuroo started crying again, blubbering about being happy Saeko was finally moving on. Insisting the Tsukkishima boys were good for no one. Daichi was just happy everything seemed to be returning to normal (minus one crying devil incarnate). They needed a couple days of normal.

*****

Suga opened the door, “Is everyone fully clothed or should I come back another time?”

His grandmother sat in her usual corner, knitting the blob, “Koushi, you didn’t even knock, do you  _ want _ to be scarred for life?”

He raised his hands in the air, “I don’t think anyone really  _ aims _ for mental scarring, it just happens.”

“Especially when you enter a room with your eyes open, that’s like asking for it, sugar.”

He heard a wheezy laugh from his grandfather’s bed. He held back a wince, let his smile shine through instead and walked to his side of the bed, taking the seat nearest and planting a kiss on his deathly pale cheek, “Hi, grandpa.”

His grandfather smiled, “Good morning, Koushi.” His voice was so frail, Suga had to almost stop breathing to hear it. 

Suga swallowed down the lump in his throat and swept a wisp of hair out of his grandfather’s face, dabbed at a trail of drool with the corner of a handkerchief. He  _ had _ to be strong, “How do you feel this morning?”

“Like I could throw one of those olympic discus things, the ones you have to spin around a lot to get enough momentum,” Suga smiled, glad he at least still had the strength to try and make him laugh.

“As entertaining as that would be, I think we should probably stick to bed.”

“Your grandmother said the same exact thing,” he coughed, took a couple labored breaths.

“That’s because Koushi and I are great thinkers, our minds are one in the same.”

“Lucky he got the Sugawara mind without the vanity.”

Bunko waved a needle in his direction, “There’s a difference between vanity and honesty, darling.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Smart move, grandpa,” His grandfather gave him a long-suffering look.

“Are you two talking about me?”

“Yes we are, in fact I have something very important to talk to Koushi about, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all darling,” Bunko rose from her seat and kissed Suga’s grandfather on his forehead before leaving the room.

Suga felt his heart beat faster, “Grandpa?”

“Koushi, I’m sorry to ruin the light mood. But I need to tell you something while I’m still able to tell you.”

Suga felt tears stinging his eyes. He still wasn’t ready for this conversation. He could only be so strong. He couldn’t handle it, “Grandpa, can’t we wait until you’re feeling a little better, or-”

“Koushi, I’m not getting better,” even though he knew it was true, hearing the words out loud for the first time was a shock. He couldn’t swallow the lump in his throat this time, and let a tear fall down his cheek, “Listen, Koushi. I know my mind is going. And I know I don’t know it everyday but when I do, it scares me. And I know it’s scary for you to, but I just want you to listen because there are things I want to be sure you know.”

It didn’t matter if Suga couldn’t be strong. He  _ had _ to. This was happening and nothing any of them did could stop it. Suga took his grandfather’s hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into the bone-thin skin, “Okay, I’m listening.”

“First of all, I want you to know I have never regretted having your father, despite his inability to grasp what is truly important in life. Because he was able to live, your grandmother and I were able to have you.  _ You _ are my pride and joy Koushi. And I’m happy I was able to be a part of your life.

Suga heard himself make a broken noise in the back of his throat, and a quiet sob followed it with a couple tears. He tried to pull himself together, “Me too, grandpa.”

He felt a small squeeze on his hand, still grasping to his grandfather’s.

“I just wanted to make sure you know how important you are to me. Don’t let the world get you down. You’re stronger than the words they’ll use to define you.”

Suga lifted his eyes to meet his grandfather’s. He was astonished to see how clear they were, even as his body and mind were tearing themselves apart, his spirit was still there, alive and well. It gave Suga courage.

“I love you, Koushi.”

“I love you too, grandpa.”

His grandmother returned a few moments later with a glass of water, and upon seeing them in their sappy state she pulled them all together in a gentle group hug.

This was Suga’s family. These were the people who had and would always love him, unconditionally. The people who taught him what it was to have a home. Even though their days were numbered, this family was eternal. They had shaped him into the man he was today and the memories of them would have an impact on who he would end up as, old and grey surrounded by the new family he would create. 

He spent another couple hours there, telling them about his life. About expanding the business to this region, the Kenma and Kuroo debacle and mostly about Daichi. Even when he’d dated Terushima he hadn’t thought about him this much, and Suga considered him the first love of his life. He thought about Daichi constantly. When he saw something interesting his first instinct was to tell Daichi or daydream about how he would react. He thought about the small frown he got when he was concentrating, the wrinkles that formed on his forehead when one of his friends did something particularly vexing, and the way his eyes lit up when Suga managed to make him laugh. What a beautiful laugh it was, too. He thought about the way Daichi grounded him when he needed it most but let him roam free, be his own person. He wasn’t a very noticeable person, he could easily slip into the background when he needed to, but he was an enigma. He made people feel like they could conquer the world, and when they got bored of soaring the skies, or if they failed, Daichi would always be there for them to fall back to. When he thought of Daichi he thought of home. When he saw the future family, Daichi was there right by his side growing old with him.

Finally, it was time for him to go. He didn’t want to leave at first, his grandfather looked feeble enough to be blown away by a small breeze, but the nurse told him he’d be okay to go home for the evening. They told him he was still stable enough to make it through the night. Suga tried to slip away when he thought his grandfather was sleeping, not wanting to bother him with his departure, but as soon as he got up and released his grandfather’s hand back to him, his grandfather's eyes opened, “Don’t forget to bring that boyfriend of yours by again,” he closed his eyes, a smile on his cracked lips, “I want to put the fear of God in him.”

“Okay grandpa, just don’t scare him away, I kind of like him.”

“If he’s the kind of person scared by a sickly old man i don’t think he can handle you.”

Suga smiled, rolling his eyes at his grandmother, who rolled hers back, “Goodnight, Koushi.”

“Goodnight, grandma, grandpa. I love you.”

His grandfather said one last thing before drifting off to sleep, “Until next time, Koushi. I love you.”

*****

Straight after leaving his grandfather, he went to a planning session for Kuroo and Kenma’s wedding. It was the first one in their own home, since Kuroo had gotten back earlier that day. He was happy to see Kuroo seemed more comfortable now that he was back in his own environment. He was back to his sassy, devious self and Suga was happy for him. He knew how trying weddings could be and it was always more fun when the couple could fall into his rhythm. Kenma didn’t seem particularly interested in anything going on but he had the sense to pitch in and comment when Kuroo asked him a question or made him choose between two colors. Even the cats were more excitable, perhaps sensing the changing nature of their household. After making significant progress, he called it a day and took his plans to his room, setting them on the table to look over in the morning when he had some brain power back. He gazed longing at the bedroom, at the comfort of his bed, then turned to go back into the hallway.

For now he needed a different kind of comfort.

He knocked on Daichi’s door quietly. And stepped back, waiting for an answer. He opened the door and was happy to see whatever entity existed felt for him, appreciated how hard he had worked that day, and bestowed upon him a shirtless, freshly showered Daichi. Daichi looked a little disgruntled when he opened the door but his frown quickly turned upside down when he saw who it was, “Suga.”

Suga gave him a lopsided grin he knew Daichi loved, “Hello handsome. Were you warm?”

Daichi glanced down at his shirtless body, a rose blush dusting his cheeks, “This is actually the second time this has happened to me today.”

Suga stepped closer, speaking lower, “So you just go around showing this masterpiece,” he said gesturing to Daichi’s unclothed chest, “To everyone?”

“Well I just figured, I shouldn’t hide it, you know?” when he said it he blushed a darker pink, like he was embarrassed. Goddamn was it cute.

Suga closed the small gap still between them, trailing a finger along Daichi’s abs, making him tense and flex. Which was extremely hot. Suga hadn’t realized just how bad he missed Daichi’s body until that moment. He missed it so much his mind begged him to touch, explore. He pushed Daichi far enough into the room to close the door, not bothering to lock it. Then he kissed him, open-mouthed and needy. Daichi kissed back with a similar fervor, using one hand to reach the back of Suga’s head and tilt it for a deeper kiss and the other to cup Suga’s cheek. He got lost in how intimately Daichi treated him, like he was some sort of national treasure to be admired. He wanted Daichi to feel the same way.

He started by kneading his hands down Daichi’s sides, feeling every inch of skin to see how Daichi reacted, find where he was sensitive and what areas made him groan into Suga’s mouth without holding back. After becoming satisfied with his knowledge of Daichi’s upper body, he let his hands wander to where he really wanted to go. They cupped the smooth curve of his ass over his sweatpants. It was firm and sculpted, Suga knew this from staring several hours working in the hotel staring at it and one passionate night of worshipping it, “God, I love your ass.”

Daichi broke away for a moment, cheeks and ears now crimson, “I think it’s kind of average.”

Did the boy just. No he did not. Daichi walked around everyday with a gluteus maximus Michelangelo dreamed about and  _ wished _ he could capture in artistic rendering and he had the gall to call it  _ average? _ It was a federal offense. Suga would have to teach him differently.

He was about to do so when Daichi started doing something with his tongue on Suga’s neck that distracted him enough to stop groping Daichi. Daichi steered them over to the couch where he crouched over Suga, reaching new sensitive angles. Daichi pushed Suga’s shirt over one shoulder, Suga was pretty sure he heard it rip, and kissed his way across the planes of his shoulder. He would bite down in some places then ghost his lips over another, but every action had Suga squirming. He felt light-headed already and they were just get started. Or so he thought. But the deity who had previously rewarded him decided he’d had enough (he’d honestly probably filled his groping quota for the month) sent Kuroo in at that exact moment to have a def con 1 level break down. First the door slammed open, which they both either ignored or didn’t hear, then Kuroo gasped, “Daichi stop distracting  _ my wedding planner! _ He needs sleep!”

Actually what he really needed was Daichi to get him off. But no one seemed to agree with him. Except Daichi, who growled animalistically at Kuroo’s voice, sending vibrations up and down Suga’s neck where he was pre-occupied trying to send Suga’s mind fizzling for days, “Kuroo, go the fuck away.”

“Oh I’m sorry, are you the ones getting married in a month and you still have no live band booked?”

Daichi broke away from Suga’s neck to glare at Kuroo, “No but we are the ones who haven’t seen each other in what  _ feels _ like months and might kill you if you don’t away postehaste.”

“Okay, but who’s fault is it that you haven’t seen each other.”

Daichi sat up, getting caught up in the argument, “ _ Yours _ , actually, you god damn _ pork sniffer _ .”

Kuroo smiled, apparently happy to be in a position he could anger Daichi in, “Oh,  _ language _ , mister, what about Suga’s innocent ears.”

“I don’t know if you knew this, but Suga’s ears are anything  _ but _ innocent.”

Kuroo covered his ears, “Ew, gross that’s like hearing your parents talk dirty to each other, please don’t do this to me.”

Daichi moved to return to Suga’s lips, “Then leave.”

Kuroo finally decided to pull on Daichi’s heartstrings, which they all knew was a foolproof tactic, “But I just got back from the hospital and Kenma works so much that we have hardly any time to plan the wedding and we really just want to get this out of the way because I’m  _ so stressed out _ ,” he even added a woe-is-me hand to really sell it.

Suga sighed and got up, happy they at least didn’t get far enough for there to be any physical signs of his arousal, and led Kuroo out by the shoulder. He turned to send a forlorn glance at Daichi, he was happy to see a similar pout on his lips, “I’ll be back in 15, okay?”

Daichi nodded and stretched out on the couch, displaying his grecian chest for Suga to fully admire. He had to advert his eyes so he wouldn’t finally give up on being a nice person and abandon Kuroo to fend for himself.

Really the live band planning didn’t take any more than ten minutes. All he needed was their tastes (Kuroo liked club music and Kenma was into obscure video game remixes) to determine they didn’t need a live band but a miracle. Thankfully for them Suga knew one of the best DJs in the business. He made a mental note to call Terushima in the morning. Despite being arbitrarily annoyed, he felt for the couple. Deciding to get married after their first big fight was a big step, and he could see the small stresses in their relationship. Suga had seen it in many couples, most of them didn’t make it all the way to the wedding, but Suga saw something deeper in the eyes of these two. A true bond and trust that Suga had seen take people all the way through life. He left, happy to see bonds like that still existed and true to his word returned to Daichi’s room.

Only to find him fast asleep, sprawled on the couch in what Suga was sure was an uncomfortable position. Suga sighed, speaking to Daichi’s sleeping body while he found him a blanket. Suga had strength but he was about 110% positive he couldn’t drag Daichi all the way to his room, “You’ve done nothing all day, I know. You can’t lie to me you lazy bum” he spotted the large brown blanket he’d used the night they fell asleep watching Gilmore Girls, “How are you this tired?”

He tucked the blanket around Daichi all the way up to his bare shoulders, “It’s eleven p.m. you old man. Maybe if you stayed up late partying so you woke up at noon like all other reasonable 25 year-olds instead of building a successful business, you wouldn’t have these problems.”

Daichi sighed in his sleep, two syllables that sounded awfully like ‘Koushi’. Suga brushed finger along Daichi’s cheekbone, “Daichi.”

He knelt by Daichi for a couple moments before getting up to return to his own room so he could wake up in the morning with enough time to visit his grandfather again and meet with Terushima.

Before he left he locked the door, so Daichi wouldn’t have to be distracted again until the morning. He stopped in front of his own door and rummaged in his pocket for his keys.

Suga noticed his phone buzzing and pulled it out, frowning. Who would be contacting him this late at night? The screen told him he had 10 missed calls and 4 voicemails. From his grandmother. His heart sped up, jumping to the worst conclusions. He told himself to calm down. Reminded him she often did this, wanting to tell him about some cute boy she’d seen or the ending to a particularly dramatic episode of whatever soap opera she was hooked on. He fumbled trying to put in his password. He failed about four times, willing his fingers to stop shaking. He finally got it right, putting the phone to his ear as the first voicemail started playing, “Koushi…” Her voice was shaking. Her voice never shook. He listened for a few more moments, words failing to register as he stood frozen at the threshold of his new found home.

He started running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to talk feel free to comment and leave kudos! It really helps and I love talking to you guys! Also my tumblr is [ here ](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk!
> 
> ALSO I'M SORRY FOR MORE ANGST BUT SUGA MUST GROW AND BE SAD. IMSORRY PLEASE DONT HATE ME.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	12. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi woke to the sound of birds and a beam of light hitting him in the eyes from the open window of… his living room? He moved his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes and his suspicions were confirmed when his movement was restricted by the back of the couch, against which his arm was pinned. He slowly sat up and twisted his back, feeling it pop up and down from a night spent on the couch which, for all it’s redeeming qualities of comfort, was still only a couch. He also noticed an extreme lack of Suga in his apartment and remembered what they’d been in the middle of before the natural disaster Kuroo struck. He was touch starved and had Suga all to himself for the first time in what felt like eons and of course his employees still had no concept of personal space or ‘alone time’. Daichi swore right then and there Kuroo would pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! So this chapter took me awhile because honestly, writing angst hurts my soul but um... here's a buttload of angst! Thank you to Lachesis for betaing for me! She's wonderful and even wrote an [ Avengers fic! ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7814023/chapters/17833054) Please check it out if you have any interest because it's super amazing! Thank you guys for your comments and kudos, they fuel me. XD
> 
> ALSO: I WAS JUST REMINDED OF THIS BUT BE WARNED!!! PANIC ATTACK AHEAD! If you're triggered by this, please Ctrl+f to "Iwaizumi?". Some heavy stuff in this chapter so please read at your own discretion. I am sorry.

Daichi woke to the sound of birds and a beam of light hitting him in the eyes from the open window of… his living room? He moved his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes and his suspicions were confirmed when his movement was restricted by the back of the couch, against which his arm was pinned. He slowly sat up and twisted his back, feeling it pop up and down from a night spent on the couch which, for all it’s redeeming qualities of comfort, was still only a couch. He also noticed an extreme lack of Suga in his apartment and remembered what they’d been in the middle of before the natural disaster Kuroo struck. He was touch starved and had Suga all to himself for the first time in what felt like eons and of course his employees still had no concept of personal space or ‘alone time’. Daichi swore right then and there Kuroo would pay.

To make good on that promise, he even pushed himself off the couch and into the hallway, completely skipping his morning coffee. He figured the grumpier he was, the easier it would be to enjoy Kuroo’s suffering. Not that he exactly needed the extra help at this point. 

Daichi picked up his phone from where it was sitting on his table, a quick look at it told him he was in serious need of fixing his internal clock because 10 a.m. on a Thursday. He had about 4 missed calls and 2 voicemails, none from Suga. But because of Suga’s eternally fucked internal clock, Daichi wasn’t worried. He smiled, remembering the last time he’d tried to wake up Suga before eleven on a weekday. He’d practically dragged Suga out of bed so he could make his appointment with Kuroo. There were blankets thrown, profanities spewed from a mouth Daichi thought was too pretty to be saying such things until Suga finally gave up and migrated from the bed to the couch. Daichi got him a cup of coffee and put Suga’s feet up into his lap, switching between rubbing them and tickling them to wake Suga up. Suga endured it for a few moments before escaping Daichi by rolling off the couch to the floor.

Daichi watched him, endlessly amused by Suga’s surprising lack of morning cheer, “Well someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Suga glared back at him, unamused before crawling back onto the couch to curl against Daichi’s side, “Dai, there is no other way to get up out of bed. Every side is the wrong side to get up on.”

Even still, with a bit more coaxing he drank the coffee offered to him and was out the door, chipper and smiling by noon. Daichi would never cease to be amazed by how quickly Suga was able to bounce back from the small inconveniences in his life. He shot Suga a good morning text then replaced his phone in the pocket of his sweats. He wondered if it would be the same when his grandfather finally lost the fight with Alzheimer’s. If he would fall into sorrow, or be stronger for it. Either way Daichi knew he would be there for all of it, to give Suga what he needed.   

Daichi hoisted himself off the couch, trudged to Kuroo and Kenma’s door, this time making sure to pull on a shirt before leaving the safe confines of his home. He knocked and Bokuto opened the door, munching on a poptart Daichi assumed he brought from his own room, since Kuroo saw them as an incarnation of the Devil himself, “Daichi!” Bokuto’s hair seemed to perk up like a dogs ears, “You’re looking significantly clothed today!”

Daichi eyed Bokuto, noticing the tight tank top he was wearing, leaving a strip of the bare skin of his abdomen before his owl pajama pants covered the curve of his hips. Daichi pushed past the (admittedly fine) muscled body of Bokuto into the kitchen, “I’d like to say the same to you, Bo.”

Bokuto closed the door and followed after him, beaming, “What you mean this little number?” Bokuto gestured to the top, turning to show of his back and arm muscles. Daichi couldn’t help imagining what Suga would look like in it, how his pale skin would look peaking out at the bottom, “Akaashi got it for me because it has an owl on it! He knows me so well.”

Daichi noticed the poor specimen, stretched thin across Bokuto’s pectorals. Poor little guy. But seeing how the shirt defined Bokuto’s assets, Daichi thought Akaashi’s motivation for buying the shirt was not as pure as Bokuto thought. Daichi gave him a half-hearted smile and a pat on the arm, “It’s really nice, Bokuto.”

“Akaashi’s really nice,” Bokuto turned and flounced to his spot at the breakfast bar, where Akaashi was shamelessly checking him out. 

Kuroo and Kenma were in the kitchen, Kenma sifting through the mess of their refrigerator and Kuroo trailing after him, whining, “Kenma, I’m dying.”

Kenma sighed, finally reaching the milk. He closed the door and poured a glass, which he handed behind him to Kuroo, “Could you possibly do it a little faster? I have places to be.”

He said the words like he was truly done with Kuroo forever but he reached an arm around to rub circles in his back, relieving some of the pressure there. Kuroo waved at Daichi and took a sip from his glass, keeping his eyes on Kenma, “But Suga’s not answering his phone and we still haven’t agreed on colors and- Kenma you’re going to kill the cats.”

Daichi furrowed his brow, Suga wasn’t answering his phone even for wedding business?

Kenma had been pouring milk into the water dish and the cats were crowded around it, waiting for a taste, “But they like it.”

“Just because you like it doesn’t mean it’s good for you,” Kuroo tutted.

Kenma glared at Kuroo before turning to dump the milk into the sink, “Heaven knows I know that,” he muttered.

“What was that Kenma?”

Kenma turned back around and pulled out a Nintendo DS, “Nothing,” he tapped for a few moments, “What do you want the colors to be?”

Kuroo sifted his hands through Kenma’s hair while he thought,“I don’t know I was thinking like a maroon or some dark shade of red like that.”

Bokuto snickered, “Ooo  _ real _ edgy, bro.”

Kuroo’s head snapped to Bokuto, “Shut the hell up, cum guzzler.”

Kenma snapped his game shut and placed it back in his pocket, “We can do maroon.”

Kuroo’s glare softened into something more meaningful when he looked to Kenma, “Really?”

Kenma handed Kuroo a bowl of cereal he’d made. Daichi noted how Kenma now seemed to be the one caring for the family in Kuroo’s time of need, “Yeah, whatever makes you happy is okay with me.”

Kuroo kissed the top of Kenma’s head, “Aw, thanks kitten!”

Bokuto slammed a hand on the table, “So are we all just going to ignore the fact that Kuroo called me a ‘cum guzzler’?”

Kenma shrugged, “I don’t know, it was less of an insult and more fact, don’t you think?”

Bokuto stuck out his bottom lip and slumped in his seat, “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, right Akaashi?”

Akaashi had been spending the entirety of the conversation staring wistfully at Bokuto’s deltoids, “Hm, what?”

Bokuto looked betrayed, finally catching Akaashi in the act, “Akaashi, do you only love me for my body?”

Akaashi’s eyes flicked across Bokuto’s body, “It’s a pretty significant factor.”

Bokuto’s bottom lip wobbled and he stood up, plodding out of the kitchen to the couch, where he flopped down heavily with a sniff, “There’s a person inside this body.”

Akaashi’s mind seemed to snap back to reality after Bokuto was safely out of sight, behind the couch, “I knew buying that shirt was a bad idea. I just wanted one nice thing.”

He sighed, joining Bokuto at the couch, sitting on the floor so they were face to face and talking to him in low tones about something. 

Daichi moved to their vacated seats and took one for himself, “Hey, so what’s all this about Suga not answering?”

Kuroo stopped mid-cereal bite, “Well we had a meeting this morning and-”

“He missed it?” Okay, that was weird.

Kuroo set down his bowl, in reach of the cats who snuck up behind him to lap at them milk. Kenma did nothing to stop them, “Yeah, and he-”

“Did he text you or anything about missing it?” Daichi heard his voice shaking. Which was weird because he wasn’t panicking. He was calm, cool, and  _ where the hell was Suga? _

Kuroo held up his hand, “If you don’t let me finish, I’m not going to tell you what I know.”

Daichi gripped his shirt at the sides to ground himself. It was still too-early-for-Suga in the morning, he could still be sleeping. He took a couple more deep breaths and gave Kuroo his I’m-totally-okay-not-dying-inside face.

“Okay, so he didn’t make it to our meeting this morning, which I thought was weird, right?” he paused and Daichi nodded, to show we was listening, “And so I called him, still no answer. So I thought maybe you kept him up all night,  _ wink, wink _ ,” this time Daichi glared, “And so we went to knock on his door and he still didn’t answer.”

Kuroo must have seen the worry etched across Daichi’s face because he was quick to add, “But I’m sure he’s fine. What with my record-beating Bridezilla act he probably needed a break, right?”

It did little to soothe his nerves but he agreed anyway. 

Daichi heard the clink of a bowl hitting the sink. Kenma added Kuroo’s now-empty bowl to a pile of breakfast dishes in the sink. In a rare act of action, Kenma put a hand on Daichi’s shoulder, prompting him to look into Kenma’s eyes. Which was a mistake. Kenma’s eyes could see through anything and knew that no amount of platitudes would help calm him down. Kenma must have seen this too because he looked troubled, “Maybe you should go down to work, get your mind off things.”

Daichi thought he had pretty solid proof that  not even a twenty ton freight train plowing through his hotel blaring the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song could get his mind off Suga, but he might as well give it a shot.

 

****

 

2:01 P.M. and Suga still hadn’t called. After the first hour of calls, voicemails and texts sent with no response, Oikawa confiscated his phone, informing him as soon as Suga called he would let Daichi know, but until then he had people to appease. People who he couldn’t concentrate on long enough to remember their names let alone their problems. He stared down at the desk in front of him, imagining everything that could be happening. Sure, Suga could be treating himself to a well-earned spa day, but he could also be in the stomach of a shark or in some alley way, beaten and broken. Or some John Doe in the hospital, without an identity or hope of ever being found again. Or sold into the sex trade. With every ticking second of his analog wristwatch, Daichi felt his mind go hazy and his heart palpitate. Breathing was getting hard. His eyes dragged up to look around the lobby, his eyes going in and out of focus. The room was too big. He could smell something metallic, taste it in the back of his throat. His was suit scratching against his skin, constricting him.

He needed to get away. 

He stumbled back from the desk and around a corner into the small alcove where Hinata and Kageyama could be found lurking in the middle of their shifts. The back corners were dark and Daichi found himself curling into one of them, like he did when he was small and one of his parents or sisters still had yet to return from errands. He thought he’d gotten over this, years of practice had given him control over his panic attacks. But here one was, threatening to squeeze him tight until it stole all reason from him.

Daichi felt his heart seize in his chest. He swallowed down the feeling, telling himself he was just overreacting. The panic that had been building ever since the first time he called Suga with no answer, the panic of realizing how much he loved Sugawara Koushi, the panic of not knowing where he was or even if he was alive, suddenly overtook him, squeezing his chest until he could barely breathe and causing him to crumple to the ground. He loved Suga. He loved him so much, and the fact that he had to fall apart to realize it ripped a sob from his chest.  _ Fuck. _ He needed to stop.

He placed his head in between his knees and tried to pull a breath into his chest. Then he counted to ten, releasing the breath.  _ But Suga’s missing. _ Breath. Count to ten.  _ He’s missing and you can do nothing about it. _ Breath.  _ They wouldn’t even call you if they did find him. _ Ten. Nine. Eight.  _ You’re completely helpless. _ Daichi’s body spasmed and he couldn’t breath. He tried again, felt tears stinging his eyes. He heard himself make a choking noise and his body went into overdrive, adrenaline rushing through his veins as his body tried to pull his mind back to reality. His mind was tearing him apart again. He  _ was _ powerless. He didn’t even have his phone. He couldn’t call for help, his voice failing him without air in his lungs to back it up. He felt his fingernails cut into the skin of his arms, his last line of defense from the dark fear.

“Daichi?” A familiar deep, raspy voice from the front of his nook, “Daichi, are you okay?”

Daichi tried to answer, but only a whine came out. Was that pitiful noise him? It had to be, didn’t it.

Suddenly arms were boxing him in, keeping him close, safe, “Daichi, Daichi can you hear me? You’re going to be okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”

He was going to be okay. He wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to do this by himself. His breathing evened from the inhumanly fast pace it had been into something more reasonable. Daichi let the voice hold him and lull him into exhaustion, his body tired from being tensed to the point of injuring himself and his mind tired of crippling anxiety. Eventually Daichi got the strength to open his eyes and recognized a familiar spiky mop of black hair before it pulled back from his peripheral to show hazel eyes and a concerned grumpy expression.

“Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi pulled Daichi’s hands out of his arms carefully, inspecting the bloody, broken, finger nails, “Daichi, when’s the last time you had a panic attack?”

Daichi considered it for a moment, it was almost so long ago he could’ve forgotten it. If these were the kinds of things people forgot, “I was seven and I woke up in the middle of the night to find my entire family missing.”

At that age, it had been traumatic. Apparently, one of his sisters had fallen down the stairs and the entire family (being up, since Daichi was the youngest and the only responsible child) had gone to the hospital, forgetting him in the rush of the event. Of course, after coming home to find their son ripping his fingernails out and hyperventilating in a ball on the floor, they were sure to never make that mistake again. It hadn’t been a good time in his life. And after realizing Daichi may have had a serious problem, they took him to therapy and learned coping mechanisms until he no longer needed the calming medication that Daichi had hated for clouding his thoughts. Other people in his situation weren’t so lucky. He’d ignored his issue, praying it would just go away as he got older. But of course, it just took the right situation to finally bring the past back to the light.

Iwaizumi pulled Daichi’s legs out, taking him out of the fetal position, “What triggered it this time?”

Daichi felt a single beat of his heart against his chest, “I can’t find Suga. He won’t answer his phone”

A brief flash of rage crossed Iwaizumi’s calm eyes, “I’m going to kill him.”

Daichi found it hard to comprehend this sentence, “No, why would you do that? Suga is perfect and,” Daichi struggled to find the right word, “suffering.”

Iwaizumi didn’t seem convinced. Daichi closed his eyes and let himself breathe. He could still feel the disquiet in the back of his mind, where he usually banished it, but he was free to the air now, “No, I’m fine, really.”

He started to get up. Not really sure where he was going, but it seemed like the next logical step. Iwaizumi pushed him back down, “Daichi, sit down. You are a delicate flower, please allow me to treat you as such.”

Daichi was indignant, “I am  _ not _ a  _ flower _ . I’m like, a cactus.”

Iwaizumi put Daichi’s hands down, “Sure you are,”

Iwaizumi helped him up now, made sure he was stable on his feet and then followed behind him, close like a mother hen, all the way to the staff room, where the first aid was located. It was strange to have someone looking after him, to have Iwaizumi treat him like a child, unable to handle himself. He remembered why he worked to contain his attacks for so long. He hated feeling like people needed to watch out for him. He knew it was necessary, of course, it was practically impossible to make it through life without friends to have your back. But he also felt like he had to do everything in his power to take care of himself.

Iwaizumi wrapped Daichi’s fingers with a dexterity he assumed Iwaizumi had earned after nights of practicing various medical procedures on Oikawa. When he finished he closed the first aid kit with a click, “Daichi, why didn’t you tell us?” Iwaizumi’s tone was filled with a gruff anger, but his troubled glower and wide eyes revealed how shaken up he was.

“It just didn’t seem important, I got it under control by the end of summer and I never thought it would be an issue for any of you.”

“That’s so bullshit Daichi. And you know it. You probably know best out of all of us were going to worry about each other no matter fucking what so you need to tell us these things. We’re here for each other.”

Daichi ducked his head, “I know.”

Suddenly his torso was being crushed by Iwaizumi’s arms, “You really fucking scared me Daichi.”

Daichi felt his eyes prickle as he wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi. He couldn’t cry. Because this was a manly hug, and tears would ruin that aesthetic. But his words still sounded thick, muffled by emotion and Iwaizumi’s shoulder in his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again,” Iwaizumi sounded equally as choked and they both sat for a bit, hiding their faces from each other until they became composed.

Of course, Oikawa chose this moment to barge into the room.

“Hey Daichi, I- Are you guys okay?”They pushed each other away, wiping at their eyes and staring very intensely not at each other, “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt a serious bro moment?”

They both glared at Oikawa and yelled, “No,” at the same time. Oikawa smiled at them slyly, “Oh boys, that’s really cute but Suga called and I just thought you’d like to know.”

Daichi’s heart kicked into overdrive, but from excitement instead of anxiety, “What? Where? Can I talk to him?”

“Well he actually called on the hotel phone, something about losing his phone and not remembering your number, he’s on line one if you want to talk to him.”

That was stupid question because why wouldn’t Daichi want to talk to Suga? And the fact that he  _ could _ talk meant a majority of the terrible things Daichi thought could be happening probably weren’t. Unless Suga had been kidnapped. And they were making him call for ransom. Which Daichi could and would definitely pay, even if he had to sell the hotel. But why wouldn’t they call his grandparents first? An awful thought rooted Daichi in the middle of the lobby, on his way to the nearest phone. What if his grandfather… Daichi walked faster.

After pushing past a few guests with sincere apologies called out behind him, he finally reached the phone. Daichi pulled the receiver to his mouth and pressed down on the correct line, slightly breathless when the line went alive, “Suga?”

Suga’s voice crackled through on the other side, “Daichi, I’m so sorry. I dropped my phone in the rush and I haven’t been able to find it and no matter how cool my grandma is, she refuses to get a smart phone so I had to track down the hotel number and-”

“Suga, are you okay?”

The other side was silent long enough that Daichi would’ve thought Suga had hung up, except there was no dial tone. When Suga finally did answer, it was so quiet it was hard to make out across their bad connection, “No, not really.”

Daichi’s hands clenched on the counter in front of him, his fingers twinged in protest from the abuse, “What happened?”

He heard Suga take an unsteady breath, “It’s my grandpa Daichi,” Daichi’s heart dropped to his feet, Suga sounded so empty, “He went into a coma last night and my grandma and I have been here all night,” Suga stopped talking again, when he continued he sounded like he’d started crying, “My grandma told me that she and my grandpa had decided to sign a DNR before he got really bad. I don’t… I-I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

Daichi ached to be near Suga, to hold him, “What do you need?”

“You.”

Daichi promised to be there as soon as possible. They quickly said their goodbyes and Daichi set to work, grabbing whatever clothes Suga had leftover in his apartment and some of his favorite books in case Suga or his grandmother needed anything to do.  At the last moment he remembered sustenance was important and took a good amount of leftovers from Asahi’s kitchen, with permission, of course.

 

Daichi entered the sliding doors of the hospital, a tote filled to the brim with various odds and ends on either shoulder. He spotted Suga sitting off in a corner, staring down at the hands folded in his lap. His body immediately yearned to be near him. Daichi made a beeline for him, dropping the tote by his side when he leaned down in front of Suga, running his bandaged hands across Suga’s knees soothingly. Suga looked up at him, eyes watery. The fluorescent lights of the hospital washed out his skin and reflected off his silvery hair, making him look ghostly. The image was helped along by the purple hues underneath his eyes. God he looked tired. Daichi gripped his knees a little tighter, seeing it as an injustice to the human race that anything in the wide expanse of the cosmos had the audacity to make someone so beautiful, so sad.

Daichi did the only thing he could think to, and pulled them both up so he could bury Suga in an embrace. Suga held on to him like a lifeline, Daichi cupped the back of Suga’s head in his hand, trailing the fingers of his other hand up and down Suga’s spine, “Hey there,” he started lamely.

Suga pulled away to look at Daichi, eyes drowned in the beginning of an onslaught of tears, “Hi,” Suga’s voice was barely a whisper, rough and wasted.

Daichi swallowed heavily, wanting to take all the pain for himself but knowing he couldn’t. He let Suga go to pick up his bags and let him lead the way up to his grandfather’s room. Daichi figured they’d reached the door when Suga stopped in front of a closed room, looking blankly ahead. Daichi figured Suga might need to know he had someone there, so he reached out and took his hand. Suga squeezed it, then let go, opening the door.

Stepping in, Daichi immediately felt a different air. When he visited last time, the air had seemed warm, and vaguely smelled of home. Now it was frigid, he instinctively shivered. His hairs raised as he smelled something  _ too _ clean, covering up any human comfort with antiseptic and a machine that beeped. His fight or flight response kicked in when he looked over to the bed. He’d never seen death before. He had to remind himself this was Suga’s grandfather, lying in a bed, unresponsive with tubes sticking out every which way. He looked far more aged then the last time Daichi had seen him (which was saying a lot). It was terrifying. And heart-wrenching. He pulled his gaze from the bed to one of the unusually large and comfortable looking chairs, where Bunko was. She smiled, but the unnaturally dark shades under her eyes were puffy. She slouched over when she stood to give Daichi a lackluster smile and a kiss on the cheek. When she hugged him it was with significantly less gusto, so Daichi just hugged her back all the harder. The small touches and broken smiles they exchanged in a heartbeat seemed to say all that no language in the world could.

Both Suga and Bunko stood stiffly unsure of themselves and unable to make a move forward, closed off from the situation they were faced with. So Daichi decided to take charge, one of the only things he considered a true talent of his. He set his totes in the least comfortable, least likely to be used chair and opened the larger of the two, handing a set of clean pajamas to Suga and another to Bunko, along with a package of unopened toothbrushes and toothpaste he’d thought to pick up on the way there. They took the items wordlessly, gazing at them like they’d each just been handed a pile of pocket lint and told to build a computer. Daichi rolled his eyes, because really, it wasn’t rocket science, and pushed Suga (because he wasn’t too sure how Bunko would react to pushing, but he wasn’t looking forward to finding out) towards the bathroom in the hospital room, “Go, change, clean yourself.”

Daichi closed the door between them and hoped Suga was actually taking care of himself, not just standing in a new location. He circled around and almost jumped as high as a cat who’d come into contact with a cucumber (Bunko being the cucumber). She had stood up in the time it took him to get Suga to the bathroom and was watching Daichi quizzically, “Do you love him, Daichi?”

Daichi stood up straight and glanced at the door to the bathroom before gaping at Bunko, still not used to being addressed so bluntly by people outside of his age group, “I- what- huh?” he sputtered, quite unintelligently.

Bunko looked down her nose at him, with a championship-winning poker face, “It’s a pretty simple question,” she noded her head at the door, “You might want to hurry before Koushi comes back.”

Her glower had him answering quickly and honestly (he was convinced if he lied she’d have his soul ripped from his body with a dull spoon), “Yes, yes I do.”

Bunko smiled, a little of the tension in her shoulders leaving, “Thank God, I didn’t want to have to remove your insides with one of these shitty hospital sporks.”

Daichi thought that was far more classy than a dull spoon. He was honored. Suga left the bathroom right after his grandmother’s comment (thankfully), and she entered, patting Suga’s shoulder as she walked by.

The similarities between the way Bunko looked at him when she stood up and how Suga was looking at him now was eerily similar, he hopes Suga had similar opinions on sporks vs. spoons, “What did you say to her?”

“What do you mean?” Daichi felt his face heat up.

“She looked… at peace,” Suga looked envious, like he wanted to feel the same peace, but knew he couldn’t, “I think we’re both in shock,” he eyed the machines surrounding his grandfather, “Like there’s absolutely no way this can be real.”

Suga’s eyes fluttered and he swayed a little on his feet. Daichi grasped the side of his arm, “I think you need some sleep, then we can talk more about this.”

Suga nodded, eyes already heavy-lidded. Daichi pulled out a pillow and a blanket for Suga to use then sat down in one of the three comfy chairs, pulling out a book to keep him company while he forced the Sugawaras to sleep. Unfortunately, Suga had other plans and slid over the arm of the chair to curl up in Daichi’s lap, “Suga, your grandmother is right in the other room, soon to be in this room,” he whispered frantically, not pushing Suga away but sitting frigidly.

Suga just wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck sleepily and snuggled his head into the crook of Daichi’s shoulder. They were falling into a rhythm, and Daichi loved it more and more every day, “Oh please, Daichi. She had seen and done a lot worse than cuddling, if I’m proof of anything. You can relax.”

Suga pulled the blanket around them both, Daichi freed one of his arms so he could wrap it around Suga’s torso, keeping them both secure.

 

Suga’s eyes must have been open, because he caught sight of Daichi’s hand and Daichi heard Suga’s breath stop, “Daichi,” he flipped the blanket off of him to take Daichi’s palm between his fingers, “What happened?”

“It’s uh-” he was about to say it wasn’t important, but he knew it was was, “We can talk about it later,” he took another look at Suga’s grandpa, his chest rising and falling with unnatural accuracy, “There are more important things.”

Suga sighed, “I’m gonna miss him.”

Daichi kissed the top of Suga’s head, a spot right next to a lock of hair that refused to lay flat, “I know.”

Suga seemed too worried to sleep, glancing at his grandfather every few moments, so Daichi just said the most reassuring thing he could think of, “I’ll wake you up if anything happens, get some sleep.”

By the time Bunko rejoined them, Suga was asleep, the blanket re-tucked around him and Daichi was a chapter into the well-worn copy of a book he’d owned since high school.

Daichi gestured to the second tote, “There’s more blankets and stuff in there, let me know if you need anything else.”

Bunko nodded and grabbed the fluffy contents of the tote, grabbing some of the food Asahi had given him, she opened one of the tupperware containers with a click and took a wiff, “This smells amazing.”

“Wish I could say I made it, but a friend of mine is a chef. He had some leftovers he let me bring over.”

She took the container to the seat with her, grabbing a spork on her way, “That’s a good friend.”

Daichi thought of Asahi. Sure, he teased him endlessly for being the large wimp that he was, but Asahi had always been there when he needed him (not including an instance in their teenage years that Daichi just chalked up to angst and puberty). And the fantastic food was always a plus, “One of my best.”

Bunko pointed a past-filled spork at the book, “ _ Tale of Two Cities _ ?” she raised an eyebrow.

He looked down at his weather-battered, jam-stained copy. Since it was his favorite, he owned two, one hardback first edition hidden high and dry from most of humanity and this paperback that cost him less than a dollar at the time, “Yeah, we read it in high school and I’ve been in love with it ever since.”

Bunko smiled and swallowed the bit of food in her mouth, “Of course, you were one of the kids who actually read the books assigned for class.”

Daichi shut the book, laying it on top of Suga, carefully, “Yes well, I was a big fan of passing.”

“Akio was the same way,” Daichi tensed, surprised by her use of past tense, and unsure of how to speak to a woman who was losing the love of her life, “Dickens was also his favorite. Loved how he wrote about loyalty, and sacrifice for those you love, unconditionally.”

“Which one did he think was the best?”

She glanced at Daichi, smiling sadly, “ _ Great Expectations _ .”

“I have that one in my bag, actually.”

Bunko’s eyes widened, “Really, do you mind if I read it outloud? I’m sure he’d love to hear it.”

Daichi nodded, moving his book from Suga’s lap to the floor are resituating to a more comfortable position, “Please, do.”

Bunko’s voice filled the air, drowning out the drone of the machines and mingling with the cadence of Suga’s breathing to change the sensation of the room. If Daichi closed his eyes, he could imagine them sitting in a living room, the evening sun rippling through the curtains while Suga’s voice murmured and sighed through sleep. He heard a soft pitter patter of some animal, a crackling fire enveloping them in warmth. Daichi smelled apples and cinnamon, the scent of homemade pie, like his mom used to make. His head fell forward, his cheek brushing across the top of Suga’s head. He heard a beep, like the alarm from the oven. He’d just take five more minutes, the pie wouldn’t burn in that time. He snoozed for a while longer, then the beeping came back into focus, fell into a tempo and Daichi remembered where he was. 

Suga was no longer in his lap, his warmth gone and replaced by the light sherpa layers of his blanket. Daichi cautiously opened one eye, suddenly assaulted by the harsh lighting of the room. Slowly and painfully his eyes adjusted and he took in his surroundings. Suga was sitting at the table with his grandmother, a closed book and empty food containers strewn about in front of them. 

They seemed to be arguing in low voices, “Suga, there’s nothing else you can do here. Go home, sweetie, get some actual sleep.”

“Grandma, I can just leave you here. What if he-,” the breath caught in Suga’s throat and he cleared it before going on, “goes while I’m gone?”

“He’s already gone, honey. He loves you just as much as I do, and he knows you love him. It’ll be fine, darling. You know he’ll understand. It’s time to say goodbye.”

Daichi thought this might be a conversation they’d want to have in private so he yawned as realistically as he could manage and stretched to alert them of his presence. Bunko threw his copy of  _ Great Expectations _ at him and started clipping the containers shut and shoving them in a tote, “And now that you’re both awake, it’s a great time for me to kick you out and inform you that you’re wasting away precious moments together by sitting in this room being sad,” she stood and pulled the blanket away from Daichi, storing it on top of the empty containers, “Get out of here before I kick both your asses.”

“Grandma,  _ please.  _ Why are you being like this, let me be here for you,” Suga glowered at his grandmother,  standing his ground. Daichi would’ve been proud if this entire situation wasn’t incredibly uncomfortable for him.

“Koushi, if you don’t get out right now, I’ll get security to do it for me,” she crossed her arms pulling the authoritative mother stance.

Daichi stood awkwardly while the two glared at each other, bickering telepathically. Daichi shuffled stiffly to his bags and picked them up, shoving the rest of the things he brought with him in, “I’ll just go wait in the hallway, then.”

They didn’t acknowledge that they’d heard him so Daichi left, letting them sort out the puzzle pieces of their family.

 

*****

 

As soon as Daichi left, his grandmother sagged a little, falling back into the chair behind her, “Koushi, I know this is selfish of me, but I would like some time alone with your grandfather.”

“But there’s still time to-”

“No, Koushi. There is no time. He has hours, at most. A day if we’re lucky,” Suga saw tears forming in her eyes but she blinked them back, “Really at this point I think he’s just holding on for us.”

Suga walked forward to take his grandma hands. She smiled at him gratefully and her chin trembled, “I think it’s finally time to say goodbye, Koushi.”

Be strong. Suga leaned down, kissing his grandmother on the cheek, “Alright, grandma.”

He dropped her hands to walk to the bed. Each step felt heavier than the last, the finality of it all threatening to bring him to the ground. It hurt to look at him. His face was peaceful, but still. He could’ve been sleeping, except his grandfather’s face had always moved in sleep. He usually mumbled, now he was a shadow of himself. 

“It’s okay, grandpa,” Suga clenched the safety rail of the bed until his knuckles turned white, “You can go, if you need to,” he shared a look with his grandmother, “We’ll be okay. We understand.”

His voice was choked with tears, and his voice hitched in his throat, “I love you.”

This time he knew, as he bid his grandmother goodbye and brushed the hair out of his grandfather’s unresponsive face to plant a kiss on his cheek, that this was the last time he’d see his grandpa. He squeezed his hand one last time, remembering all the times he’d held onto that hand tight. Every time he woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat from the same nightmare he still had sometimes, being alone in a word of nothing but cold air and quiet streets. When he thought that dream had become reality, when he broke his arm his senior year of high school and missed out on his championship game. He didn’t want to let go. But it was time. He pulled his bag up over his shoulder, hugged his grandmother and walked past Daichi into the elevator.

 

*****

 

It was dark when they left the hospital. Daichi assumed it was still early in the night, because the streets were still alive with the sounds of chatter and music. The drive home was heavy. Suga sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window with tears streaming down his face, trying to hide them from Daichi. Daichi drove with both hands on the steering wheel, suddenly unsure of himself and his ability help Suga; he seemed beyond comfort. They walked up to Suga’s room in silence. It weighed Daichi down, walking two steps behind Suga while he opened his door and stood aside to let Daichi in. Suga then continued to walk forward, towards a picture on the TV stand.

Daichi went into the kitchen, pulling out everything from his bag to get to the tupperware so he could clean it and return it to Asahi in the morning. He had just plugged the drain to fill it with water when he heard a crash from the other room. Daichi skidded in to find Suga now staring at a hole in the wall, the picture he’d been looking at earlier on the floor directly underneath it, broken. Daichi walked around Suga to pick it up. He leaned down, picking the picture up out of the shattered glass frame. The picture was of a family, taken in a studio, if the perfect lighting and posture had anything to say about it. There was a woman holding a small toddler with a big smile, a man stood behind them, stiff and imposing. The woman had beautiful dark brown eyes and a spattering of beauty marks under her lip and right eye. The man had short, harsh grey hair, it was slicked back, but still stuck up in a couple places that seemed to be persistently dodging his attempts at a professional demeanor. Daichi realized with a start that these were Suga’s parents.

Daichi looked up, holding the picture lightly in his fingers, up at Suga. Suga’s eyes were dark and foreboding, making the hairs on Daichi’s arms stand up. There was no smile on his face, just a grimace that spoke of malice. His hands were clenched at his sides and he glared at the picture in Daichi’s hands, “I hate him.”

Daichi stood up, taking a couple steps towards Suga, “He’s not in your life anymore, Suga.”

Suga turned his heated gaze onto Daichi, stopping him, “Why is he so bitter? Doesn’t he understand how much my grandparents loved him?” he reached out to touch another picture, this one of a young Bunko and Akio, holding a very serious-looking little boy, “How dare he. He doesn’t  _ deserve _ anyone’s love. He’s a fucking asshole. Scum of humanity.”

Suga took this picture and shoved it to the floor as well. The remained pictures and knick-knacks on the shelf followed suit. Daichi reached out a hand to calm Suga, but found himself being pushed away too. He hit the wall behind him, barely missing the broken shards of the first frame. Suga followed him back, grabbing onto Daichi’s shirt and shaking him back and forth, voice rising into hysterics, “Why does he have to die while my  _ father  _ gets to walk around leaving ruin in his wake. It’s not  _ fair _ .”

The anger was soon dissipating around them, and Suga pitched forward, deciding the energy he needed to stand wasn’t worth expending. Daichi fell with him, sliding down the wall and turning Suga so they landed chest to back. Daichi leaned his forehead into the back of Suga’s neck and used all his strength to hold Suga against him while he finally let the sobs shake him apart, “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Daichi hummed the song his mother used to sing to him when his attacks started getting worse and he was almost at his breaking point. He repeated it until Suga stopped shaking and his arms ached from gripping so hard. He thought of their friends, their reactions to Suga’s disappearance and worry when Daichi had sprung into action, frantically running around grabbing things to bring to the hospital. It was time for them to know. They all loved Suga, and after the talk he’d had with Iwaizumi earlier today, he knew they’d want to know. Might even be offended if Suga didn’t tell them. He kissed Suga’s shoulder and spoke quietly, “Hey, honey, we need to talk.”

Suga sniffed, turning his head to give his attention. Daichi took a breath, feeling the weight of Suga leaning back against him, “You’re going to have to tell everyone what’s going on.”

Suga tilted back, tickling Daichi’s cheek with wilting locks of beautiful silvery hair, “I will,” Daichi breathed in Suga, he missed the slight minty smell of him, now mixed with the salt from his tears, “How about now?”

Daichi reared back a bit, “What?”

“Yeah, why not? Today couldn’t possibly get any worse, so might as well get all the emotional parts of it over with.”

The words were bitter, said with a matter-of-fact tone that let Daichi know how truly tired Suga was, “How about after a bath and a cup of coffee?”

Suga nodded drowsily, “I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY! Thanks for reading, folks! Please leave kudos or comment if you haven't already. My tumblr is [ here. ](http://hamahsauwus.tumblr.com/)


	13. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Takes the broken pieces of your heart, lying on the floor* *Puts it back in your still open chest cavity* *Puts duct tape over it* There we go, all better. Good as new.
> 
> Hey guys it’s been a while!! I’m so so sorry for the wait but I lost a lot of my inspiration and had to focus on my real life for a hot second. This chapter ended up a little shorter than initially anticipated and the epilogue was originally supposed to be another chapter but I really needed to finish this story off while I was motivated. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME AND MY STORY! It means so much to me and for anyone who reads my other stuff, updates will be slower than they were last year and I will not make any promises on times for updates until I know I’m officially back on my game. THANKS TO LACHESIS WHO IS ALWAYS THERE WHEN I NEED HER! 
> 
> Please, enjoy the closing chapter of Speechless!

After having a bath and a cup of coffee, Suga now stood in front of the door of Daichi’s room, where he’d gathered everyone once he’d been sure Suga was no longer in the state of mind to continue his path of destruction. He felt empty inside, he’d expressed all his rage and sorrow, thrown his tantrum and now all he was left with was the truth. A truth he was now about to reveal to a room of people who had been strangers not a month ago. Daichi’s family, his… friends? The word sounded right but tasted foreign; all of his childhood friends had become brothers or faded away and he’d never felt like he needed anything more than acquaintances. But he wanted these people to understand, to form a support system around him like they had with Daichi. It wasn’t exactly envy he was feeling, but need, a yearning for compassion that should’ve felt selfish but instead felt warranted.

He tried the doorknob, found it unlocked and stepped into the room. A number of concerned (and one slightly irritated) faces turned towards him, focused on him. The room was thick and dark with worry. Iwaizumi was the odd one out and came flying at him immediately, staring at Suga like he had something to be blamed for, without having done anything. Except disappear for a few days.

“Where  _ the fuck _ have you been?,” Iwaizumi came within inches of him, not needed to physically touch Sga since the ice in his words delivered the bow itself, “I fucking swore to myself that if you weren’t dead in some alley I’d kill you myself for what you did to Daichi.”

His confusion and helplessness must have shown because Oikawa jumped in, placing a light hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as if to restrain him, “Come on Hajime, at least let him speak before you throw him to the dogs.”

Oikawa’s words just seemed to anger Hajime more, he spat his next words with a venom that Suga hadn’t anticipated Iwaizumi having. “He’s not even good enough for the dogs, I haven’t seen Daichi panic like that since we were kids, it’s fucked up, Tooru.”

Daichi’s voice, despite its volume, sounded small behind the wall of wrath Iwaizumi was exuding, “Iwaizumi, leave him alone, it’s okay.”

Suga was allowed a moment of reprieve from Iwaizumi’s intense gaze when he turned to gesticulate at Daichi. “No, no it’s  _ not _ fine Daichi, why do you think I-”

“Hajime, STOP,” the formally gentle hand of Oikawa on Iwaizumi ripped the imposing force away from Suga, the heated air left Suga’s lungs and he felt like he could breath finally, “Look at him, he has no idea what you’re talking about.”

Iwaizumi looked confused, disgruntled and his familiar half-frown returned to his face along with a questioning raise of his eyebrows, “Daichi, you didn’t tell him?”

“There were more pressing matters at hand.”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms across his chest, which he puffed out in an age old ritual of male dominance. “What matters are more pressing than your tendency towards panicking at the prospect of losing someone you love?”

Daichi winced and looked at Suga as if he might drift away with the draft seeping through the window. Suga hadn’t even considered what effect him falling off the map might have on the people whose lives he had become a part of. After getting the call from his grandmother his mind became one track, Daichi didn’t cross it once until he needed someone. 

Suga’s head sagged downward, awarding him with a glorious view of his socked feet as what now seemed like a never-ending pool of guilt filled the pit of his stomach, “Daichi, I’m so so sorry.”

Suga braved a glimpse up to Daichi’s face…and he was only met with a warm smile and his beautiful big brown eyes that had told him so many times everything would be fine.

“It’s okay, Suga, we can talk about it later,” Daichi looked to Iwaizumi and his expression changed to a more stern one, “And yes, much more important than anything to do with me, so if you would sit down and shut up for just a few moments, I think Suga has something he would like to talk to you all about.”

Luckily, Daichi’s friends knew when he meant business and all found a comfortable spot to give their undivided attention to Suga.

He started from the end, with the most pressing of matters, his grandfather’s failing health and their decision to bring him to a care facility here to try and improve his quality of life. How he met Daichi quite on accident at the worst of times, why he’d cut off all contact for a day. Then Suga moved to the beginning, explaining how his grandparents had been more than just that. They were his only family and the only people that had cared for him when he couldn’t love himself. The beginning was filled with dark times that he’d mostly blocked from memory, he could only see flashes of a cold, sharp pain that never seemed to end, only to be soothed by a kind, amber light and the smell of tapioca, his grandfather’s favorite snack. He finished speaking somewhere in the middle, his mind weary of remembering the good times when the ones at present were a meager light from a candle in a draft against the great bonfire of fond memories.

The bleak silence of the room was a solace, some people stared down at their feet, giving him some semblance of privacy in his grief, others looked him straight on, offering their support and love without words that would only seem hollow and mechanic, the same ones he’d heard over and over and no longer offered any comfort when uttered. Suga’s eyes landed on Iwaizumi first. His grimace had become more gentle and his eyes seemed focused on some point in the past behind Suga, one hand roamed to find Oikawa’s and held it tight when they met. Only then did his attention turn back to Suga, where he communicated a message of understanding. Kenma had, for once, put his game in his pocket and was regarding Suga with his calculating golden eyes, comprehending the information just placed before him. Asahi and Kuroo were silently sobbing in the corner, a fact Suga found bitterly amusing considering they hadn’t even known his grandfather. But he knew they meant well, Asahi’s empathetic sense was wide and all-consuming, and Kuroo and Suga had gotten close since the engagement. For what could have been the first time in his life, Nishinoya sat still and only listened. His eyes passed over Daichi next,  _ his _ Daichi. Daichi who exuded a warmth like summer, smelled like the fresh cut grass and wildflowers of spring, who gave hope, tranquility and a new beginning like fall, who was as beautiful as the untouched winter ground after a heavy night snow. Who had now heard the story for what seemed like the umpteenth time and still looked at Suga like he was some beautiful, perfect creature, despite all the facts that stated differently. Daichi who Suga loved. Daichi who loved Suga.

“So that’s my story.”

A sudden presence literally and figuratively knocked the wind out of him with a bruising hug, the hair against Suga’s cheek was sticky with gel and his shirt was wet from whatever liquid was being expelled from Bokuto’s face but Suga had never felt quite so… at home. “Suga, if you ever need someone to talk to, know I will be here. My dad died when I was in college and I know how hard it was for me, so just,” Bokuto squeezed tighter, successfully suffocating Suga with his love, “Let it go, you know. Like Elsa said.”

Suga patted Bokuto on the back, a little frantically if he was honest, considering the life was slowing leaking out of him, “I will Bokuto, just like Elsa said.”

Bokuto let go of Suga, leaving a heavy, large hand on his shoulder but releasing him from the crushing embrace.

“Bo, I can’t fucking believe you brought Disney into this.”

“Disney works in every situation, Kuroo!”

“Disney barely works in it’s  _ own _ situations, I mean have you seen some of the continuity errors?”

Bokuto started physically shaking with Disney-hater induced rage, “Talk shit about Disney one more time Kuroo. I fucking dare you.”

“I mean, did you just completely block out the mess that was the second Pocahontas movie, it was a complete and total- AGH.”

Kuroo’s opinion on the quality of a movie Suga wasn’t even aware existed was silenced by the fist fight he was now engaged in on the floor of Daichi’s living room. Suga didn’t know if he would ever get used to the constantly changing tides of this wonderful group of people, but he was eager to try. Their ability to make him laugh in his darkest hour was only paralleled by his grandmother, who also probably needed a couple adults bickering like two-year-olds to bring even a speck of light into her life. Daichi moved to break them apart but was grabbed by the ankle and fell to the ground, inevitably joining in.

Akaashi stepped around the man-children, just barely missing a deft kick to his left leg, to stand at Suga’s side. His blue eyes were as cool as ever, inquisitive and critical, “Suga, I know we haven’t known you that long, but you can trust us to take care of you. Anything you need, we can do.”

Hearing it from Akaashi made it all the more believable, as he was a man who didn’t seem to care who knew the truth and therefore spoke it exclusively, even if it meant breaking a person. “A little sleep and quiet would be nice, actually.”

Akaashi nodded and pulled him out of the living room, away from the bellows of what sounded like a rather intense fight happening into the hallway and then into his room, where Akaashi left him, promising to run interference for as long as he needed. Suga crawled into bed, his hair still damp from the earlier bath. The cold of the comforter, left unused for more time than he would have wanted, seeped the warmth from his bones and heart as the frigid truth of what was happening crept back in. It was nice to have a moment of reprieve from the end of the world, but as the tears finally fell in rivulets down his face and his body was racked with sobs that shook the walls, he felt relief that lulled him into an uninterrupted sleep. His phone, left in the pocket of his jacket thrown into a corner of the kitchen, lit up a number of hours later as the sun began to rise over a purple morning, delivering the final blow.

*****

He went peacefully in his sleep at night.

As soon as Suga heard, he rose from his bed and followed the now familiar path to Daichi’s room, hoping he wasn’t still sleeping. It would’ve been the third time Suga woke him and he was starting to feel a little guilty. Nevertheless, he wrapped his cold fingers into a fist and rapped on the hard, glossed wood of the door, two, three times. It didn’t take long for the locks to glide smoothly open and Daichi to appear behind it, his thick dark hair askew and eyes dropping with sleep. After seeing Suga it didn’t take long for his slightly irritated and tired look to become worried. They stood silently, Daichi assessing Suga and Suga letting him. Daichi’s eyes grew wide and his grimace softened, jaw seeming to drop with the finality of understanding.

“He’s gone?”

Unconsciously, Suga’s head moved towards the ceiling and back down in a repetitive motion, like an old clock in need of wd40. His feet were drawn to Daichi and he wrapped his arms around the larger man. Daichi’s crinkled t-shirt smelled like sweat and lavender masked by a detergent and he could hear and feel the constant, thrumming beat of Daichi’s heart through the thin fabric. Daichi’s arms wrapped around Suga’s shoulders and cradled Suga’s head right under his.

Suga had learned about himself in the past few months; that his grief came in great crashing waves. It was always there, a large expanse of dark waters on the horizon, at the back of his mind but the ocean would rise and drown him, pull him into a riptide. In the caring arms of the man who loved him, he felt the current tugging at him and let it pull him down, knowing Daichi would be there to pull him out before the pressure of deep water could crush him.

His eyes welled, tears began to fall and they stood on the threshold, unable to move. He squeezed Daichi tighter when his knees started to shake, sure he could be suffocating the man who just stood and took it. Suga remembered something Daichi needed to know, a thought he’d been having in small moments when his mind went blank and there was nothing else he could think about, “I’m so glad you got to meet him.”

He felt Daichi’s shaky, stuttered breath, and looked up to see Daichi’s face. He was suddenly aware that his hair was wet, presumably with Daichi’s tears. Their eyes mirrored each other, dark, red and swollen and tired. Suga raised his cold hands, gently placing his fingertips on the more irritated areas, trying to sooth them. Daichi’s hand met his there, miraculously warm, making Suga wonder if good circulation was something that ran in his family or a side effect of being a good and pure person.

“What do you need?” Daichi’s voice was a soft grumble, barely audible over Suga’s own hiccuping breath.

“My grandma.”

“Okay.”

*****

“Koushi, go try this on.”

“Grandma, is this really necci-”

“Quite, Daichi needs to see how good you look in a suit.”

Daichi sat in the fitting room of the fourteenth suit shop they’d been in that day in the middle of a mall that was so big he was sure it held at least four of the seven circles of hell underneath tiny shops filled with overpriced merchandise. They’d gone to get Suga’s grandmother from a small trailer she’d rented to stay in for the remainder of her time in town to find her dressed like a young Queen Elizabeth, purse in hand and walking sneakers on. She immediately grabbed them both by the arm and declared, “Boys, we’re going shopping,” and led them back to the car, directing them down a long stretch of highway for what seemed like days (really, only hours) until they reached this monument to capitalism. Daichi wasn’t sure how long they’d been there. His phone had been left in the car and in true large corporation fashion, there were no windows or clocks to be find, the mall trapping it’s patrons in an infinite loop of (mostly) looking and (rarely) buying for an eternity. Daichi could feel the life slowly being sucked out of him as Suga and his grandmother continued to swipe cards and add bag after bag to his aching arms. But if this was how they needed to spend their time, he would sacrifice any limb to help. At first they were silent, but after a trip to a store painted entirely purple and probably meant for little girls where they put various gaudy and colorful hair accessories and sunglasses on Daichi, they started to talk. It started with stories of dragging Suga’s grandpa on several trips where they would do the same to him, and he would stand quietly while they modeled various ridiculous outfits on him, and always threatening to buy the most ludicrous and getting him to wear them to formal occasions. Of course they never went through with it, always mindful of his aversion to anything that might bring him attention.

Daichi was not so lucky. After unsuccessfully hiding a particularly grotesque pair of sunglasses with lenses like the eyes of an unfortunately large and very terrified owl and decorated a truly horrifying color of pink, he was forced to not only buy them with his own money, but also wear them around until his face was almost as pink as the glasses and he was on the brink of hating children after the fifth one laughed at him menacingly and with much gusto. Only then, after promising to keep them forever, did Bunko give him permission to hide them at the bottom of the largest bag they had, saying, as he ripped them from his face, “You see, Daichi. You wanting to sleep with my grandson makes you my bitch, sweet summer child.”

A comment which led to much sputtering from Daichi, words from Suga his own mother would have gawked at, but Bunko just laughed off and conversations of Suga’s past boyfriends and his grandfather’s ability to terrify the largest, meanest and most confident of them.

“You know I loved him from the first moment I saw him.”

Bunko’s voice and the uncomfortable, lumpy stuffing of the old, depressed leather seat he was slowly being scked into brought him back to the suit shop. Suga was still nowhere to be found, presumably in one of the many stalls admiring himself in the mirrors, and rightfully so. Bunko was focused on something reflected in the mirror that Daichi couldn’t see. He pulled himself out of the seat just to make sure Bunko knew he was listening.

“He was eighteen, working in a flower shop my mother frequented when she felt our designers hadn’t chosen the right color of dahlia or chosen freesia instead gladiolas. I didn’t often go with her, and this was the first time someone under the age of forty had been behind the counter,” Bunko’s face had a slight smile, twitching up at one edge as if remembering an old inside joke, “My mother, ever the impatient woman, rang the bell two or three times before his head popped around the corner, holding the biggest bundle of baby’s breath I’d ever seen in my life. He dropped it in this big vase and rushed over, blushing and almost frantic. I remember the first time he looked at me in perfect detail. I want it to be the last thing I remember.”

Bunko closed her eyes, a tear falling down the small rivers of wrinkles of her face until it fell, seeping into the fabric of her dress, “He looked at me, and his eyes got all big and his face turned redder than a strawberry in June. And his hair was pulled back in this terribly messy bun, leaves tucked here and there, snagging at hairs that snagged back and his jaw dropped. I couldn’t help but giggle, and my mother simply rolled her eyes and listed off her complaints to my poor flower boy who flustered about and made her repeat herself two or three times. I thought she would kill the poor boy.”

“We left pretty quickly afterwards, and after that I found every excuse to go until one of us plucked up the courage to ask the other their name. It wasn’t until about a month later, and after that things progressed pretty quickly, as they did back then. And we loved each other every day, until the day he died and I will continue to love him until I join him. I need you to swear to do the same for my Koushi, Daichi. You take care of him and love him viciously, until it hurts.”

Daichi swore with his entire being.

*****

They had the funeral two days later, in a small suburban town two hours away where Suga had grown up and Bunko had grown old. The actual ceremony was small, just Bunko, Suga, many of Bunko and Aiko’s friends from the past and Daichi, who stood in the back and let everyone grieve in peace. He felt out of place, but was there for Suga, who would go and find Daichi when he needed a moment to comprehend what was happening, or escape the fawning of old women in need of something to do. On the short walk from the small church to the cemetery, they passed a flower shop, too bright for such a day, that Bunko stopped in front of, looking in at the counter where a girl had her feet propped up, listening to the static from an old radio. He was sure that Bunko saw right past her, instead focusing on a young man with baby’s breath in his hair.

From the cemetery they took a sleek, black car back to Bunko’s house, a typical two-story dwelling too quiet and cold for one person to live in. They weren’t two feet in the door before Bunko set her master plan to work.

“I am far too old and tired to be this sad.”

She took a look around the house, flipping on a switch that illuminated the hallway, painted yellow and decorated with small stencils of some sort of vine, “Koushi darling, you have friends, right?”

“The way you say that makes me question it myself.”

“We’re going to have a party. And you’re friends are coming. Mine are no fun anymore, I need some pretty young people to surround myself with.”

“Grandma, my friends have jobs, they can’t just come when I call.”

“What’s the point of dating their boss if you can’t abuse the power, honey?”

They turned their eerily similar conniving gazes to Daichi. He caved immediately, with little to no grumbling, getting Iwaizumi on the phone and hoping to god nothing went wrong while he pulled his most competent employees out for the day. When he voiced his concerns to Iwaizumi he only laughed, “Daichi, you really underestimate the rest of your the rest of employees, you’d be surprised how well they run this place without us.”

In the two hours before they arrived, Bunko and Daichi managed to make enough food to feed a small army and there were several instances where a dead mouse or spider was found and after a few blood-curdling screams Daichi was beckoned to remove the pest but they managed to  return the dusty, empty house to the inviting abode he assumed it was in the past.

The doorbell finally rang just as Daichi put the last dish on the creaking table and the door was opened, leading to a choir of voices that filled the hallway. Daichi moved quickly to join them, intent on utilizing some intense crowd control skills. What used to be a reasonably-sized length of front landing was now cramped as their friends crowded in. The first in was Oikawa, ever the charmer moving straight to Bunko, “You must be Suga’s grandmother, I’m sorry to hear about your husband’s passing but from what I’ve heard he was an amazing man.”

“You’d be very right, sweetie, which one are you?”

“I’m Oikawa, ma’am,” he pulled Iwaizumi by the arm out of the mob behind him, “And this is Iwaizumi, my partner.”

Bunko’s eyes immediately focused on Iwaizumi, or more specifically, his arms, “Iwaizumi, who did you have to kill to get biceps like that?”

“They’re actually an advance for a hit on Oikawa Tooru, I have to make him love me and then betray him when he least expects it.”

Bunko sighed, “That’s real fucked up Iwaizumi-san,” she looked up and down Iwaizumi again, “But definitely worth it.”

Bokuto was immediately enamored with Bunko and it took much coaxing from Akaashi and the smell of some pastry baking to get him into the living room and out of the suffocating hallway. Kuroo introduced himself next, followed by Kenma who spoke from under his curtain until Bunko commented on the game he was carrying, which she knew a surprising amount about. The only other two able to make it were Nishinoya and Asahi, the former walked straight up to Bunko and charmed her pants off with his blunt way of words not unlike hers, but Asahi hung back, afraid. Daichi slid towards him, around Bunko and Noya, “Gonna introduce yourself?”

Asahi’s eyes were wide with fear, “Old people are scary.”

“Oh honey, I’m not like other old people.” Noya had joined Bokuto in devouring all but the table the food sat on itself and Bunko had moved to the final occupant of her house she didn’t know.

Daichi would not be surprised if Asahi shat himself when Bunko spoke, “Oh. no I didn’t mean, I-I just-”

“It’s all right, old people scare me too, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

Asahi looked down at his feet, scuffing them on the warped hardwood underneath them, “I’m Asahi.”

“Asahi who makes the wonderful food?”

Asahi blushed, tucking a strand of stray hair behind his ear. Daichi took the opportunity to respond for him, “The very same Asahi.”

Bunko smiled, “Honey, I  _ need _ you to teach me your ways,” 

After Bunko pulled Asahi into her kitchen, the friendship was instant. Daichi hadn’t seen Asahi warm up to a new person as quickly as he did with Bunko for a long time. The connection was instant as they debated the merits of butter vs. oil and how to get the flakiest pie crust. Everyone kept opinions to themselves, preferring instead to let them cook and experiment with flavors that everyone else got to test. Asahi’s cooking was comfort, Bunko’s was intense and full of spices. Suga who was currently reaching over Daichi’s head to steal the last bits of curry that had proven too much for Daichi.

He felt the need to explain himself to Suga as he sweated and his mouth caught fire, “It’s just,” he wiped his brow, causing his eyes to water when a stray bit of curry on his sleeve got too close, “It’s so hot.”

Bokuto lay on the floor, presumably questioning his existence and doing his best to lower his body temperature after making the mistake of taking a very large bite of Bunko’s concoction.

Suga shook his head and downed the rest of what was on Daichi’s plate without another thought, “Weak.”

The doorbell rang again and with a kiss on Daichi’s cheek that left it burning for at least two reasons, Suga flitted off to answer it.

A wooden spoon flew through the air and hit Oikawa perfectly on the top of the head before spinning off to land in a corner of the room. Bunko found the culprit in barely a second, “Iwaizumi you apologize to your boyfriend right now before I come over there and force you to eat this entire bowl of Bunko’s special mabo tofu.”

Iwaizumi made a very Asahi-esque face, “What’s special about it?”

“You don’t want to know young man.”

While everyone laughed at Iwaizumi’s weak attempts of an apology to Oikawa (who wasn’t making it any easier), Daichi realized Suga still had yet to return from the hallway.

He got out of his seat, stepped over Bokuto and went to the hallway. There Suga stood in front of the open door, standing like a dog with its haunches raised, blocking whoever was outside from view. He crept a little closer, careful not to startle Suga to see the older and angrier version of his boyfriend on the threshold. He recognized the man easily after seeing him last night in the wreckage of the photo Suga threw.

The stranger’s voice drifted in, sharp and imposing, so unlike Suga, “I came to get what I fucking deserve, so get out of my way.”

Suga laughed, iron and ice, “What  _ you _ deserve? You don’t deserve a goddamn thing from anyone in this family.”

“I’m their son, not you, and I want what’s been coming to me after having the misfortune of having that man as my father.”

Daichi couldn’t remember hating anyone with as much intensity as he had now. The urge to beat the pulp out of Suga’s father was unrivaled. A hand on his arm, Bunko’s hand made him think, take a moment to see what was happening. Seeing Suga standing against him finally, Daichi held back, let him beat this demon with his own hands.

“I’ll give you what’s fucking coming to you,” With a satisfying crack, Suga’s fist hit his father in the nose, knocking him back, tumbling down the steps. He held his nose, barely containing the fountain of blood that seeped from the cracks between his fingers.

“You just fucking  _ punched _ me.”

“I see intelligence skipped a generation,” Suga’s arms were folded, his hand bloodied and still folded in a fist.

Suga’s father got up and moved back to the house, like he would get very far, “Listen here, you little f-”

Iwaizumi, Kuroo and Bokuto moved together, pushing past Suga to his father, Bokuto growled, “You might want to watch what you say there,  _ friend _ .”

Suga’s father shared his son’s slim build, making him look half the size of the massive beasts blocking his entrance to the house. He seemed to make the smart decision and left with a huff, muttered obscenities Daichi chose to ignore.

Instead, he pulled Suga back into the house and kissed him, “Suga, that was the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” he kissed him again, brought the hurt fist to his lips and kissed it too, “So fucking badass.”

A throat cleared behind them and Daichi remembered he was currently in the house of Sga’s grandmother and he probably shouldn’t be having such impure thoughts.

He pulled away, but Suga held him there.

Bunko broke the silence like always, “Please, don’t stop fawning over my grandson on my account, lord knows this house needs a little more love.”

She looked out the window, after her son, “Looks like I may need to invest in some sort of security though if I want to avoid any more confrontations,” Kuroo, Bokuto and Iwaizumi walked back in, closing the door behind them, “I think I’m still young enough to learn some krav maga.”

Kuroo beamed at Bunko. “I like her,” he looked to Kenma, who had been watching the entire altercation from the end of the hallway, “Can she be our flower girl?”

“We have a flower girl.”

Kuroo’s expression turned dark, “Your whore of a cousin will not be attending our wedding after what she did.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes and nodded his head, having learned it was better to just let Kuroo have his way these days.

Bokuto’s eyebrows showed his confusion, “What did Kenma’s whore of a cousin do?”

Kuroo sneered, “Unspeakable things.”

Questioning eyes turned to Kenma.

Kenma sighed, “Just let him be dramatic.”

*****

They all left a few hours after midnight when Kenma and Akaashi began falling asleep, truly all of them were tired and the road home was long. 

Bunko gave them hugs, hugs felt like an understatement because they were so much more than that. Each one was unique, with a message that left the receiver with a sense of peace, tranquility. Daichi did his best to do the same for her, adding a vocal reinforcement incase his hugging skills weren’t up to par, “You call me, as soon as you need anything. I’ll be here.”

“You do the same Daichi. And I know you’ll be needed here more than I need you. Don’t be a stranger.”

Daichi and Suga drove back mostly in silence, Suga tore at the skin on his lip, absentmindedly pulling at the wrap around his hand.

“What’s up?”

Suga jumped at Daichi’s voice and laughed nervously, “Nothing.”

Daichi raised an eyebrow but left it at that, waiting for Suga to decide if he was ready to let Daichi in. The drove for a few more minutes, the shadows of passing cars flying past in a rhythm that marked the steady configuration of streetlamps lighting the sun-faded asphalt of the highway. A slow song played quietly on the radio, the second time in the hour they’d been driving.

“I have to go back.”

Daichi hummed, not quite comprehending Suga’s meaning. They were going back, almost halfway there. He started to worry Suga might be having an aneurism when he remembered they were going to his home, not Suga’s. To Suga it was just a hotel, his home was in the large, cold city 30 minutes away from Bunko’s abode, planning weddings and living his well integrated life. Daichi felt hollow. Suga had to leave. It was Daichi’s turn to stare wistfully out the window.

“Daichi?”

Daichi’s turn to answer. He stole a quick glance at Suga, his hands were on his lap, one tearing at a non-existent hangnail on his thumb. His foot tapped to a beat that clashed with the strumming acoustic tones of the song set to a familiar four chords.

Suddenly, in a moment of true clarity and genius, Daichi had a sudden idea. He didn’t usually have many of those, not so unexpected at least, but this one was definitely for the history books. Conspiracy documentaries would debate its origins for years. He was proud of himself for having this totally unexpected, non-cliche thought.

“What if you didn’t go back?”

Daichi imagined Suga’s eyes bolting up, too busy watching the road like a responsible adult to gauge his passenger’s reaction.

“Daichi, I have to go back.”

“Okay, sure but like. What if you didn’t. What if,” Daichi cleared his throat, readjusted his hands on the rubbed leather of the steering wheel, “You just stayed with me?”

“Like, move in together?”

“Yeah, like. Live together.”

There were a couple moments of vocal silence, a pop song playing through its bridge, some whiny girl belting about a boy who had supposedly broken her heart, but Daichi recognized the voice and as her third breakup song of the month, he was starting to the thing the problem was her, not the men.

Then Suga drowned her out, speaking a little louder than normal to accomplish it, “Um, yeah. I think- uh- fuck yes.”

“Fuck yes?”

“Yeah, fuck yes.”

Daichi had to pull the car over to react appropriately to this answer, flying out of his seat and sweeping Suga out, kissing him until a passing car pulled him a way with a honk, reminding him once again other people did exist in the world. Not that any of that really mattered.

***** EPILOGUE*****

The wedding of Kuroo and Kenma had to be one of the most intensely unique experience of Daichi’s life, which he had (in any future intensely unique moments defense) only lived about a third of (knock on wood). It was a rather small reception, mainly hotel staff, close relations and Bunko, and a majority of the guests were wearing the exact same thing, honoring Kuroo’s wish to have basically anyone who’d smiled at him be his best man. It was flattering in a way, but they did look a bit cult-ish in their sickening maroon tuxes that accented the school colors they’d landed on after Kuroo had his eight meltdown of the month. The grooms were dressed more traditionally in slim-fit black tuxes with tasteful ties and dark roses in the lapels. Kuroo’s was slightly darker than Kenma’s and led to the beginning of what was developing to be yet another crisis, after his insufferable hair refused to be tamed by a whole family-sized jar of horse glue masquerading as hair gel. Daichi and Bokuto were at this point put on Kuroo-watch while Suga fixed any remaining kinks out under the radar before Kuroo could sniff them out like the basset hound bride he was.

The ceremony was short, basically an exchanging of rings and vows, barely a ten minute ritual, preceded by at least an hour of Kuroo crying about Kenma. The reception was the same, they rented out the entire planetarium, for sentimental reasons, and the show, unsurprisingly, sent everyone straight to sleep, and Oikawa into a rage that signaled to everyone it was probably time to take it home for Oikawa to drink himself into a stupor. Bunko and the relations left, claiming early mornings and long rides ahead which meant as soon as they returned to the hotel, sweats were thrown on and decks on decks of cards were brought out.

Daichi couldn’t remember the rest of the night and really wished he could block out the morning after with the headache he was graced with for all his efforts. They honeymooned in the hotel, since their meager salaries couldn’t exactly pay for any of Kuroo’s grand schemes and Daichi offered it to them for free. A deal he usually didn’t even to give employees, since the money they’d lose on giving the honeymoon suite out for free would set the entire hotel back three months on Iwaizumi’s calculations, but Daichi had a plan. An evil plan that would prove to Kuroo once and for all, just how deeply Daichi could hold a grudge.

With the help of Suga, the light of his life and a demon straight from hell, they had any hotel staff intent on watching the world burn (Tsukki barely slept the entire week) working in shifts to have Kuroo and Kenma under supervision constantly. They were not allowed a single moment of privacy, scheduled on different spa retreats and restaurant reservations just to insure that Kuroo would not have sex for the entire week. See if he ever bursts into Daichi’s room unannounced and steal his boyfriend for a pow-wow ever again. Not that Daichi was mad.

After the first three days of this intense punishment, Kenma sought Daichi out to confront him, and confirm his suspicions.

“This is your fault, isn’t it?”

Daichi sniffed and wrote down a very well-defined scribble in the guest book, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Kenma. I would never do anything to hurt poor, sweet, sex-deprived Kuroo.”

Kenma rolled his eyes and continued through the lobby and out the door, followed by Yamaguchi, who couldn’t look discreet if his life depended on it.

It was a successful week, the only downside being Kuroo’s attitude upon his return to work. He snapped at guests and employees alike, threw at least four separate tantrums and annoyed Daichi with his whining, who,giving in to his slightly petty tendencies, extended Kuroo’s suffering. Daichi was content to see him crying on the floor with a tub of ice cream.

Two days past the one week mark, Daichi was gifted with this sight as he walked into the kitchen to check on the day’s menu, Kuroo covered in a blanket and eyes red. Daichi didn’t feel bad, instead he smirked when Kuroo pouted up at him.

“Daichi, I haven’t had sex with my husband since we’ve been married.”

“Doesn’t feel very nice does it,” Daichi pulled the half-eaton gallon of ice cream out of Kuroo’s hands and placed it on the counter behind him.

Kuroo’s bottom lip quivered, “Daichi, why do you hate me?”

Daichi pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Suga, feeling completely vindicated, “Payback is a bitch.”

*****

“How many laws does this break, exactly?”

Suga threw a towel over the top of the fence and gestured for Daichi to jump over, “I don’t know… How many laws are there?”

Daichi jumped the fence, followed quickly by Suga, Nishinoya and Iwaizumi.

Oikawa stepped up to the fence, contemplating it, “How many cigarettes do you think I’d be worth in prison?”

Iwaizumi pulled his boyfriend the rest of the way over the fence, “Like a half of one, I’d keep the filter for myself.”

Nishinoya tutted, “Oh come on Iwaizumi, he’d be worth at least like a couple Marlibos.”

Asahi, surprising, was next to join them on the dark side, unexpectedly eager to examine the stars from the abandoned airfield. They’d all expected him to stay home with Bokuto and Akaashi, the first of who had an irrational fear of breaking any law more intense than the speed limit, “Then I’d be worth like, three packs, right?”

Noya patted his over-sized puppy of a boyfriend’s arm, “Of course, sweetheart.”

Oikawa grabbed Suga by the arm and started pulling him towards the center of the airfield, “How many cigarettes would you buy Suga for, Daichi?”

“Suga is priceless, no amount of cigarettes could buy him.”

Six distinct sounds of disgust from six different mouths were pointed in his direction as Oikawa called Daichi a filthy cheesy whore and Suga laughed, agreeing presumably.

They trekked across the field until the more talented of them could pick out constellations without squinting and lay in a line in the first place Suga’s grandfather had taken him, just Suga and him. It felt sacred, a place long forgotten and retaken by nature. It was beautiful, expansive, space never seemed so close nor so far away. Daichi was reminded of the first time he’d taken Suga to the planetarium, how the artificial lights had shifted on his skin and completely taken his breath away. As he looked at Suga now, a sad smile sitting on his face, illuminated by the soft, blue light offered by the moon and stars, he experienced the same otherworldly feeling of being completely taken with a single person, so small in the great scheme of things, but more important than anything he’d ever known.   
Daichi tapped Suga on the arm, earning his attention, a more affectionate smile. He was going to love this man forever. Until and after they died, until the stars knew it and whispered it between nebulas and galaxies. He entwined his fingers in Suga’s and sat in their perfect silence, taken away by the beauty of the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you need anyone to talk to anything about, hit me up on Tumblr and thank you for taking the time to read my fic. <3


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